Souvlaki at the Pillings

A couple of days ago I sat at the Pilling’s table watching Glen cut up a leg of lamb for souvlaki. Janet and Laynie were preparing the marinade at the kitchen counter. “Come over for supper on Wednesday,” Laynie said.

So with that invitation, David, Ceilidh and I arrived at their house at 7 pm tonight. Piper and Landon ate with us – we listened to Greek folk tunes, we wrapped the lamb in the pita bread, we drank Kombucha (the new wonder drink), we plated up Greek salad and we sat in the warm evening wind and watched the dark clouds gather as the evening went on.

“What is your favourite part of the lake,” said Glen, “starting from youngest to oldest." Ceilidh was quick to say family. Just family. The lake is where she feels the essence of family.

Laynie said it is the memories that mean so much to her.

“Acceptance,” said Janet. “This is where I feel acceptance.”

“Private,” said Glen.

“That is important to you,” said someone else.

“It is the privacy of family – extended family. I don’t mean my own privacy. What I like is that the spaces are not public – that we don’t have waves of car after car going past.”

I was last. “It’s cyclical nature. That is what I like. The same experiences recur again and again. I wait for that.”

The evening closed with ice-cream: double chocolate; raspberry cheesecake; maple walnut or frozen blueberry yogurt.

“We are not the ice-cream parlour that you will find next door,” said Glen.

It felt like it to me.

Arta