The Promised Land
Estimated reading time: 11 minutes, 2 seconds
Honeymoon Dinner for Two
“Campsite seven was the perfect location for us. The other sites were not close, and some trees separated us from the road. The RV sites were far enough away from us that our little pup tent was not overwhelmed by the homes on wheels. The site overlooked the lake with a log bench and, if one wanted, as Kim had described it, an easy path to the lake.
After taking in the full view of our new campsite, I turned to Jan and asked, “My love, what do you think about the site?”
It’s lovely, and if we did not have the option of going further than we had planned on our honeymoon, it would be an ideal space for us, and I would be happy to stay here.”
I placed my arms around her and kissed her sweet lips.
“I love you, but it will be dark soon, so we should unpack and start preparing dinner.”
If you start the fire, I can take our stuff out of the car.”
I agreed with Jan and started to search for kindling and wood to build a fire.
One never loses the Boy Scout skills to start a fire with one match.
The flames leaped quickly from the starter branches to the wood itself.
I am glad you did the fire,” Jan said. “I am not sure I could have gotten it going soon enough for us to have dinner tonight.”
I stood up and scanned the area, asking her where she would like the tent.
“Can we be close to the lake?”
Strolling toward the water, I identified a level area where the door flaps to the tent would open, looking over the lake.
“How is this location?”
Jan nodded her head, and we worked together to pitch the tent and finished the task quickly.
“I did not try to lift the cooler out of the car as I was concerned it might be too heavy.”
Smiling, I walked to the car while Jan put our sleeping bags and personal gear into the tent.
I placed the cooler on the table and took out the chicken, corn, and potatoes.
“I will prepare the chicken if you wrap the corn and potatoes in foil.”
Although I was not content only doing the easy tasks, I was OK with her working on the chicken as I had spent too many years with bloody hands prepping chicken in jobs when I was in college.
The campfire was ready sooner than I expected. Jan opened the skillet and put the chicken in the middle of the fire pit. The corn and potatoes were placed on the side and would cook inside the aluminum foil.
“Smoke follows beauty,” I said as the breeze shifted the fire in her direction.”
Jan laughed and turned the chicken. As she did, the pan tilted to the right, and one of the hen’s legs fell into the fire.
Oh no,” Jan exclaimed. She tried to retrieve the leg, but it was too late.
“We have enough left; we can afford to be one leg less than we started with.”
“When I was in college in Ann Arbor, we were preparing dinner, and a parade for the football team went down the street in front of our house. We had a whole chicken, and I took it out of the oven and placed it on the dining room table.”
I listened but was unsure how it was related to losing one piece of chicken in the firepit.
“We had a dog and chose to leave him inside.”
Now I had a vague idea of what might happen.
When we returned, there was no chicken except for bones and a happy puppy.”
I wanted to laugh but bit my tongue until I heard Jan laughing.
Blowing her a kiss, I said, “We still have enough food to have a honeymoon feast!”
After almost 48 years, I recently lost my wife, Jan Lilien. Like The Little Prince, Jan and I believed that “The most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or touched, they are felt with the heart.” This blog is a collection of my random thoughts on love, grief, life, and all things considered.
