Meatloaf, chicken and the unknown

On a recent Sunday my older grandsons' shared dinner and the evening with us which was a special treat. They both asked about the menu and when I said meatloaf they were thrilled....hadn't had it in years...boy oh boy, this is going to be good. I've picked a winner and I'm happy.

While I'm making the meatloaf the 22 year old and I talk non-stop. He's excited for me...going to Gaza...I should go and do what I want to do...what I think is best. It's unconditional support and that's the best kind; just what I need!

The meatloaf and the baked potatoes are put in the oven and we move into the living room...talking, talking, talking.

Husband's in the kitchen fixing produce from his garden: tomatoes, cucumbers, lettuce, green beans....I hear him call.."are these eggs out for some reason?" They are supposed to be in the meatloaf, which is in the oven...and I have two grandsons anxiously waiting for Gram's meatloaf. "Oh well ,Gram, don't worry about it, it'll still be good" He's a 17 year old wonder! We sit at the dining room table and my husband serves up the meatloaf...it actually looks much as it always does. Darned if it doesn't taste fine! And I doubted my culinary skills.

I wonder what will be a "meatloaf meal" in Gaza? I doubt it will be meat; I think that's pretty much a special occasion treat. In the West Bank we had chicken. We even saw their heads being chopped off...memories from my childhood. My family had chickens which my father would be-head; then hang upside down from our swing set...that's crazy and I didn't realize it until this very minute. He'd pour boiling water over the chicken so we could pick off the pin feathers. I assume the regular feathers were the first to be removed...all I remember are the pin feathers. Then my mother would make fried chicken. She'd use her largest iron skillets, fill them with shortening and while it was melting and getting hot, she would put flour, salt and pepper in a brown paper bag...shake it a few times...open it and drop in a few pieces of chicken...shake the bag some more.remove the floured chicken...shake off excess flour and carefully drop each piece into the hot shortening. Her chicken was the best!

Memories keep popping into my head and narrative. It seems as though I'm drawn back to my past as I embark on this journey into the future. Everything I prepare to do...pack, pick out thank you gifts, purchase a small tube of toothpaste...everything quickly takes me on a journey to the past. It's not unpleasant....just strange; causing me to wonder why my  subconscious  is releasing these memories.

This time next week I should be in Gaza...probably sleeping or getting ready for bed. WOW! The internet has provided a number of pictures of Mona and one of Talal. I think I'd probably recognize them, which is good. What about Mona's house where I'll be living...I have not a clue what to expect. The same holds true for New Horizons, where I will volunteer or the Nuseirat  Refugee Camp it serves. I'm trying not to conjure up images of these places. I don't want to  find myself surprised they're not what I'd envisioned. I will find out quite soon how things are and how they look. WOW.