Dinner, a Semi-Complete List: Part Six
After Sarah Ruhl's essay "On Interruptions"
What if I list what it takes to get dinner on the table? Not simply the cooking. That’s where you find me again. (Read Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four. Part Five)
Sarah Ruhl’s book 100 Essays I Don't Have Time to Write is one of my favorites, especially the opening essay “On Interruptions.” I return to it when I need to remember this: “At the end of the day, writing has very little to do with writing, and much to do with life. And life, by definition, is not an intrusion.”
Thursday. 3:15 pm.
Sit in the coffee shop while my kids are in tutoring. Listen to drink orders: Iced green tea with pineapple and pomegranate syrups. An iced cappuccino. The barista says, “I have bad news for you. We don’t actually make iced cappuccinos. My boss needs to update the sign.” The young woman ordering says she’ll do a hot one with oat milk. The barista, “Hate to do this to you. But the oat milk doesn’t foam. It just gets hot. So you’ll have a latte.” The young woman looks at the young man she’s in line with, he nods or says something I can’t eavesdrop. She gets the latte/cappuccinos with oat milk.
Continue eavesdropping instead of writing. There’s a Christian youth group meeting at the table next to me planning events, recruitment, t-shirts. Laughter, then, “I could tell an older staffer came up with that shirt design.”
Today started early: I made breakfast before anyone else was fully awake and ate before a long meeting. During the fifteen minute breaks through the three-hour grant review panel I sorted through piles in the office, carried the cups that accumulated on my and Michael’s desks to the kitchen, decided to donate a pair of jazz shoes to my kid’s dance studio instead of return them because returning things is hard sometimes.
During the panel I surreptitiously ate rice crackers while other people were talking.
The panel was a group of four random-ish people (I was one of them) helping the Phoenix Office of Arts and Culture decide which applications for festivals to award money. Most applications were solid, and everyone would put the money to good use. I’m a picky bitch of a self-editor so it was a good practice to give feedback in neutral, pared back language. One of the admin people mentioned the uptick in applications they’ve seen this year. Funding for arts programming is under attack. Pay people for arts programming!
Dinner is far from my mind. I’ll eat. We’ll eat. It will taste good because I can’t deal with a dinner that isn’t delicious right now. My current apathy about planning or thinking about dinner doesn’t change the fact that it must delight me. I’ll make spaghetti with Marcella Hazan’s tomato sauce and ricotta, or roasted potatoes with parsley, or rice and tofu. I remind myself (again) not to let the radishes wither away.
Finishing this newsletter is on my mind. So is coffee. I will order a black coffee soon even though I had a latte in the morning, and then keep writing.
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Oh I loved this! Coffee shop eavesdropping is so good, the stuff of life! And that Ruhl quote is perfect 🙏🏻