Oatmeal Raisin Conversation
Maybe Destiny dances the dance of dally with the comestibles for horses. Yet maybe she doesn’t. But those oats! There is something about those oats. Your selection of little oat cakes, serendipitously infused with the stickiness and sweetness of plump little raisins was the dalliance of conversation delight.
It is not often that I can or even have had the opportunity to share a conversation like what we had last night.
It was so natural, so open, so safe, so fulfilling to share with you things I cannot, dare not share with most others.
The staple of oats.
The small talk. The sharing, back and forth, of textures, of substance, of testing ideas, concepts, of exploring boundaries. Of realizing strong perceptions, of ideas being challenged, of traditions being exposed. The revealing of the intimacy of one’s very own persona. Of the realization that the complexities of oats is a truly deliciously delicious thing.
And the raisins.
The sweetness. The stickiness. The surprise. The delight of raisins.
Those little snippets of conversation that brought out the radiance of a smile, of a laugh, of a realization of so many similarities yet so many differences and how alike, like and unlike can be.
An oatmeal raisin conversation.
The clerk that joked with us about her wanting to save the oatmeal raisin cakes for her to take home. And how I was going to let her do that. And how Destiny impressed her to deny herself that treat. How you insisted on those very oatmeal raisin cakes. And what then happened with oatmeal raisin conversation.
Where that hour and half went, I have no idea. I was totally immersed in oatmeal raisin conversation.
In retrospect, I wonder about those around us, what they overheard. What they thought.
And I care not.
For what they saw was a living, breathing, oatmeal raisin conversation with a passion for excitement I have not experienced in a long, long while.
What they heard was a sense of joy. The stickiness. The sweetness. The delectableness of raisins. The surprise of dried up grapes.
And if they have any sense of humanity about them at all, they witnessed what can happen with the dance of dally with plain old horse’s oats and the serendipity of raisins.
And as wonderful as those oatmeal cakes were, they truly were “musty.” Yes. Musty!
For I simply “must have” some more.
Oatmeal raisin conversation.
One of those quintessential comfort foods and experiences that nourish the soul.
The Refectory Manager
It is not often that I can or even have had the opportunity to share a conversation like what we had last night.
It was so natural, so open, so safe, so fulfilling to share with you things I cannot, dare not share with most others.
The staple of oats.
The small talk. The sharing, back and forth, of textures, of substance, of testing ideas, concepts, of exploring boundaries. Of realizing strong perceptions, of ideas being challenged, of traditions being exposed. The revealing of the intimacy of one’s very own persona. Of the realization that the complexities of oats is a truly deliciously delicious thing.
And the raisins.
The sweetness. The stickiness. The surprise. The delight of raisins.
Those little snippets of conversation that brought out the radiance of a smile, of a laugh, of a realization of so many similarities yet so many differences and how alike, like and unlike can be.
An oatmeal raisin conversation.
The clerk that joked with us about her wanting to save the oatmeal raisin cakes for her to take home. And how I was going to let her do that. And how Destiny impressed her to deny herself that treat. How you insisted on those very oatmeal raisin cakes. And what then happened with oatmeal raisin conversation.
Where that hour and half went, I have no idea. I was totally immersed in oatmeal raisin conversation.
In retrospect, I wonder about those around us, what they overheard. What they thought.
And I care not.
For what they saw was a living, breathing, oatmeal raisin conversation with a passion for excitement I have not experienced in a long, long while.
What they heard was a sense of joy. The stickiness. The sweetness. The delectableness of raisins. The surprise of dried up grapes.
And if they have any sense of humanity about them at all, they witnessed what can happen with the dance of dally with plain old horse’s oats and the serendipity of raisins.
And as wonderful as those oatmeal cakes were, they truly were “musty.” Yes. Musty!
For I simply “must have” some more.
Oatmeal raisin conversation.
One of those quintessential comfort foods and experiences that nourish the soul.
The Refectory Manager
posted by The Refectory Manager | 12:49 PM
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