On The Other End Of The Stick

Well, we're home from Saskatchewan.

Bet you didn't even know I was gone.

It is good to be home.

I missed my bed.

I missed my kitchen,

And although we had a few good days in a big city, I actually kind of missed my Field.

We had a good weekend celebrating our parents' 50th Wedding Anniversaries. An all-out family and friends shindig in Broadview for my parents and a quiet family supper in Saskatoon for Randall's.

Fifty years is a marriage marker not to be sneezed at. Well done.

While I was gone I had a wee moment of self-discovery: it's easier to be on the giving end of the special-diet-hospitality stick.

I rather like being That Person who gets the heartfelt, profuse thanks  from Those People who have dietary issues when I've kept them in mind and made something special for them to eat.

I rather don't like being That Person who feels like people are having to make allowances.

We were away for a week, and pretty much every day of that week I was humbled and blessed by people remembering that I've given up dairy and gluten. Butter was left off vegetables. I was given opportunity to take some first, before potatoes were mashed. Whole other meals were cooked up so I'd have a couple of delicious options while everyone else had pizza or lasagna.

Loving.

Blessing.

Humbling.

The very two things I strive to do when I'm "doing" hospitality - Love and Bless- were heaped on me all week, and honestly? It was hard to be on the receiving end of the stick.

But it was good.

I never once, all week, felt like I was being a pain in the culinary butt or causing trouble, but I was very conscious of being special and being loved, and I suspect that it was very good for me.