Then the doors were opened and each person was tasked with finding their balloon. It was chaos. People scrambled around each other, grabbing and pushing, struggling to find it before the bell. No one succeeded. Then the organizers invited people to each pick up one golden balloon, and give it to its owner. The room was filled with laughter and calling as people waded through the waist high bubbles toward each other. In three minutes everyone held their own balloon. 

This week we rented a condo in the Poconos. Grabbing food out of the cupboards I piled it into bags to feed nine people with different preferences. My eyes fell on the curry powder. John buys it by the pound, sprinkles it on pasta, spinach, popcorn, stir fry and soup. I on the other hand, don't touch it. Reaching for the jar I tucked it next to the bag of chips. Tofu was on the menu one night, and I recalled that Zack's girlfriend is allergic to soy. I picked up a box of butternut squash soup for her. 

When we sat down to eat together on the glass topped table in an uncluttered dining room, John's eyes caught the curry. 

He smiled.