Supper

Here I am in a small town in Massachusetts. Seems like it will never stop raining. Doesn't bother me as it would in Victoria or Ottawa, probably because I'm not alone.

There's been very little work done on family dynamics as they apply to the eldest daughter in a dysfunctional family. Many of us, it seems to me, end up alone. There's a certain amount of unspoken pressure to take on the role of family matriarch and carry the load.

It's a tradition in my family, one I've bucked and not entirely successfully.

Arriving here was a shock, now settling in for a while, I'm noticing things about myself I never noticed before; some of them pretty alarming.

I've been groomed to be alone and to be the adjunct member of a family circle, trained to help, to be the extra maternal figure who steps in with the kids but who has no real life of her own. Ok, I'm a writer, mostly, and I do have my own identity but that identity is a little hollowed out when I'm by myself and by myself is what I've been for a long time now. (with obvious and prolonged breaks to take on mostly sacrificial roles with men)

Now I'm here. Things are different. This man is self-sufficient and I have work to do so I get down to doing it but at the same time I find myself drawn to the kitchen to cook.

There's a chicken in the oven, rubbed with garlic and butter, stuffed with millet,onions and garlic, flavored with unfamiliar spices and as soon as the tastes started coming together, side dishes started suggesting themselves; mashed potatoes, of course because that's what one eats with roast chicken but there are apples in balsamic vinegar in the oven too - to echo the french idea of heaven and earth, there's a small, simple green salad in the offing - all it needs is a bottle of dry, white wine and you have an actual meal - one I would order in a restaurant. Way too much food and too elaborate for a Tuesday.

But I'm a different person here. I wake up at 5:30 and write for an hour or more before getting on with the day and there is this other person....

I hardly know what to make of it but one thing I do know - we're not in maiden Aunt territory anymore.