It was an innocent mistake. Truely. Although yes at some stage I did glance at the invitation, but details, what are details in an impressionistic world. Seen today, forgotten tomorrow. Such details will never, EVER, be overlooked again. Because today one of those landmark moments in mistakes of the meat kind.
The painter and I are really not one for parties. We would rather linger with a few friends and talk all night. We do go to out to our dear friends, but in a small town the intimacy and interaction can almost overwhelm. So either you are out all the time or you are selective and choose those rare opportunities to mingle and merge. Tonights motivation were more for the sake of introducing our friends to their neighbours. But Oh what a faux pas, and a disservice to our friends. So what have we learnt from this event. Never EVER take meat to a raw food house..... and may be more so, NEVER EVER take PORK to a Jewish Home.
To say we were marched out of the door is an understatement. But we and the meat left, truely highly embarissed by the hostesses horrified response to our mistake. I realise its my mistake, but being a people pleaser caught between my friends and the hostess, a rock and a hard pork loin... .there really was no creative way for me to think my way out other than leave in the meat parade.
My husband the painter, was as usual, oblivious to the happenings. Only when another friend leaned over to ask where the meat is going did he pick up on the clue and follow the procession of the meat shamed out the door.
I am horrified, bold as I am I cannot overlook the faux (canyon) paux.
I am learning at Pot lucks not to bring dogs. Having not had a dog for 12 years I learn the hard way to see them all arrive and frollock and squirt around my house. But dogs are like children, and now I have a child, so we learn about family, about community. Pot lucks in this community are unpredictable and uncontrolled. Some of the most cosmic coagulations have happened over the summoning of neighbours on this strange little mountainside. Mostly misfits and fringe dwellers, we somehow all fit here. But not tonight.
We brought the very wrong piece of a puzzle to a table.
One of my best friends is from Nepal. I explained that it was the equilivent of bringing the sacred cow to the table. ..... a very big no no... so we laughed, embarissed, and then I cry. Really cry.
A heathen in my organic roots. Simply summoned. But I can reason well. The gravity of this I can appreciate, but as I explained to my husband, the painter, 'I just put on my invisibility cloak and left'.
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