I misplaced my Journal.  This will be found shortly.  My hubby was looking at it so I am sure he put it away somewhere.

Growing up Dinnertime was family time, my mother made sure of that.  When she was home full time she made all our meals. 

Breakfast  was some cereal (hot in winter, cold in summer) with sausage, ham or bacon.  Lunch was sandwiches; usually apple butter and peanut butter.  I did not like peanut butter and jelly.  And dinner was always grand. 

When she called us for dinner we came in, cleaned up, changed our clothes for dinner.  Nothing fancy, our clothes had to be clean not full of dirt from playing outside. After dinner we could put our play clothes back on and go back and play.

At dinner each of us had to turn to tell about our day and how we were feeling.  Mom and dad, at that time knew what was going on with us. 

In time she went to work parttime and then full time.  We were often left to find breakfast and lunch for ourselves.  Since I was the oldest I was to make these meals.  Sometime I would, most time I would not.  The youngest two would just go to dad and he would give them something. 

Dinner I loved to cook. I would use receipes from different magazines in the hopes that I could make it grand like my mother. 

We would sit at the dinner table and have conversation just as if Mom had cooked the food.  Of course if my sisters did not like what I made they complained.

Eventually we grew up, got jobs and Dinnertime remained family time.  Whoever was home had to fix dinner.  One time my mother decided that she would cook the night before.  She fried chicken and had it in the refrigeration with a note on it that said. ” Chicken, don’t eat Joe.”  She meant for my dad not to eat the chicken.  When she came home and saw the dinner was not on the table she looked in the kitchen for the chicken and saw the note on the empty plate. 

She looked at my dad who smile and said ” I showed that chicken.  I ate it.”  then he laughed.  She was so mad.  We went to Mcdonald for dinner without dad.

The next day dad cooked dinner and it was grand.  We sat and laughed, talked as usual.

Since my hubby works at night I usually eat dinner alone. No conversation no laughter just me and the TV.  Sometimes I would wait for him to get up for work and eat dinner with him at that time.  But that really made my reflux flare up.  So I eat dinner alone except on Monday Night.  He is off from work and we can have dinner and family time then.  

I usually do my best to make it grand and we do laugh and talk and enjoy our family time.