today was the annual sausage making event with my family. i am half romanian and as a result, we spend one whole day each year making romanian sausage the old fashioned way, mixing ground pork by hand, and adding salt, pepper, and garlic until it tastes “the way it should.” this year, we were joined by my niece who is living in dublin, my nephew who is living in vegas, my soon to be niece by marriage, whose parents, also present, fled from viet nam in 1975. i was surrounded by a veteran who fought in the gulf war, a veteran who fought in the vietnam war, the widow of a marine, the owners of a family farm, several small business owners, several corporate career employees, several federal government employees, several of those who voted for the current president, and several who voted for his opponent. we all had different scripts for our lives, and we weren’t presented with two options to choose from, but a near infinity of options, from which we chose our own scripts, none of which were repeated among any of our fellow revelers, all of whom we loved, and valued, and felt a part of. a one-room melting pot, so to say.
grape vine tendrils