It’s been a long, weird week and I didn’t want to think too much about tonight’s dinner menu, so I settled on … pizza. That blob in the bowl is the dough, or will be in a bit. Funny thing is, as I mixed it up I couldn’t help but smile. Homemade pizza is loaded with memories for me. Twenty-five years ago nearly every Friday night we would get together with our dear friends in the cul-de-sac for pizza, conversation, and entertainment. Neither we nor they had ‘two nickels to rub together,’ but those threadbare purses of ours did not stop us from having a great time together. The kids played together for hours and we just totally relaxed with one another. My favorite ‘slice of memory’ is the evening we tried to watch “Little Shop of Horrors.” We adults were all so tired that sprawled on the floor, the sofa, and over a chair, we couldn’t stay awake – until Steve Martin would sing “Yo! Be a dentist!” Then we would bolt upright, look at one another, laugh, and try yet again to stay awake.
And, “Miss Dinda,” if you are reading this, I am still using your recipe for pizza sauce!