I was taking a walk on a sparkling autumnal day.
Just before Rosh Hashanah.
Two dogs of unequal size and breed barked, chased after me.
Arousing me from a reverie.
While I composed a poem.
Simultaneously, my cell phone,
asleep in my pocket,
woke from its nap.
Insistently chirped.
Nabbed in the act of writing, I dropped my pen.
Stooped to pick it up.
Flipped open my cell.
Pulled an amplifier out of the other pocket.
Pressed a button to connect it to the cell.
Magically, I held my sister’s voice in my left hand.
Her question to me was simple:
What size potatoes should I buy?
This was the start of the new year.
Sheryl’s resolution to cook.
Lynn Benjamin
October 2, 2005
Sheryl is my youngest sister, fourteen years my junior. She has never liked to cook. In fact, she really doesn’t cook. But, she always offered to bring something to our holiday dinners. I decided to ask her to roast the potatoes for a Rosh Hashanah dinner, thinking that roasting potatoes was a simple task. She couldn’t figure out which size potatoes to buy! I don’t think she actually did roast the potatoes for that dinner. Instead, she ordered a fruit tray. She’s been ordering and bringing fruit trays ever since!