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Making It Up As I Go Along by Samantha Gianulis Here and Now A few more days left of this year, number of shopping days reduced, time to roast chicken for homemade stock and begin wondering where I hid all those gifts I have been buying for months. What do I have to show for 2006? In the mass commercialism of the holidays this past year is lost in a fog, and my spirit dampened by all of the holiday obligations. I could mirror one of the many holiday letters in nine point font we received and discuss our family’s collective accomplishments. I could write about how the kids got older, but everyone’s kids get older *(“and I’m getting older, too…”). But I would rather talk about what I have learned this year in two simple acts - by things put in front of me, and things put behind me. In Front of Me What a tremendous high, publishing a book! A cookbook no less, there it was, this book inside of me, stories about people and food and places and food, love and, oh, did I mention food? For years these stories sat in my hard drive, they evolved as I did, my writing got better the more I read and journaled, just as my cooking got better the more chances I took at the helm of the five-burner gas stove I coveted since becoming a home owner. I am someone who falls asleep thinking about food, dreams about olive groves and rustic fishing villages on the Mediterranean, always hungry to learn something new, and not just about food. In front of me was a chance to share it – so I walked through that door, promising myself I would not expect too much, be ever humble, and always happy. Here I go again, echoing the theme of many of my essays; gratefulness. Somewhere inside me is the voice of my very superstitious Jewish grandmother who tells me not to brag, but to give thanks, because it’s all so fragile. I am pretty sure her spirit is usually with me in the kitchen when I am cooking and I throw salt over my shoulder, the way she taught me. I have since added burning sage to my repertoire of superstitious rituals. I have reserves of salt and sage for a time when press and Amazon rankings dictate my future as a writer. Behind Me My best friend and I became different people overnight and walked away from each other after eleven years of sisterhood. People change, and I’ve grown tired of hearing myself tell the story. But our children were best friends, our husbands like brothers. This has been hard on everyone. When I was ready to hear it, a wise person told me not to stay where my spirit was not welcome. So I walked on, but I left a big hole in the ground where I had dug in my heels. Where there was once a mess of dust in the air between us there is now clarity and good will. I am not angry, God, it feels good to say that and mean it. And my conscience is clear, too, because I did what I could, but let the Universe close the window. I can look back through that window when I want to, there are happy scenes there, lots of sunshine, and to smile while remembering is enough. There are other people, too, that I let go…some people I tried to quietly disappear from, some people I will see again when the time is right, some people I will and wish away from my family and myself. They were in front of me once, like a wave that I swam under, against, or right through. I have lots of breakwater behind me but then again, who doesn’t? I have crossed a bridge since their departure, and I do not intend to retrace my steps. What I intend to do is eat two pounds of cornbread stuffing, sing Auld Lang Syne with my family, though I will probably fall asleep with them waiting for the ball to drop. I intend to make black-eyed peas New Years Day for good luck, like I started doing years ago for my grandfather (he was from the South). Some of the kosher salt makes it into the pot, most of it, thrown over my shoulder, ends up on the floor…in front of me and under my toes like sand in the summer, behind me and under my heels where I am happy to say, I have dug no hole of late. *“I’m getting older too”…reference to “Landslide” by Stevie Nicks .
Samantha Gianulis is a freelance writer living in southern California with her husband and three children - four including the dog. Samantha discovered a love for writing in junior high school as a result of a daily creative writing assignment and an English teacher who taught the importance of and challenged her imagination. A graduate of University of California, San Diego with a degree in history, Samantha worked in special events and catering through and after college. Her family and writing are her two true loves, but she has a passion for food and cooking - and keeps a composition book by her stove.
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