I was going to have an array of pictures, and food, and recipes for you tonight, but time got away from me. Instead I will tell you about my lunch. The lunch itself was somewhat uneventful, except for the fact that the peach I had (pictured above) was possibly the best one I have ever tasted. Something about those end of summer peaches...
What I really want to tell you about is where I work. It is an insurance office, maybe the least magical of places, but not to me.
The red brick building has been there forever with weathered photographs to prove it. Men with their hats pushed back on their heads pointing proudly to the hanging sign outside.
I work with four jewels of woman who have been with the company so long they must have popped right out of the womb and into their swivel chairs!
We sit at our computers and call across the room to each other in a jumble of recipe's, and "how are the kids doing?" The conversation dips into the spiritual every once in a while and effortlessly encourages.
The room we work in old and cozy. Gaudy curtains and worn wood welcome in memories I can almost see tumbling out the door when it's opened. A place where the sound of the typewriter sings louder than the hum of technology, and the grandfather clock chimes twelve so we can announce to each other what's for lunch and who wants to trade. Ruth turns up her nose at my grain free feast, and I at her saltine crackers, but we like it that way.
The mail slot clinks open to welcome postage.
The clock chimes again.
I eat my peaches in the warm musty air, and think to myself that there really are such things as time travel.
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