It’s Friday. The week is behind us. The weekend before us. Friday at our house means time for friends. Tonight we are serving a sausage casserole with polenta (kind of like a fancy shephard’s pie). We are waiting for our friends to arrive. They have been away for the month of Fenbruary. The fire is roaring (another Friday night ritual), the food is cooking and making the whole house smell wonderful, the puppy is curled up on her bed and we are sipping on a glass of wine. It’s quiet. Soon people will arrive, the dog will bark, the conversations will start (and sometimes those get pretty heated), the wine will flow, the food will be eaten, new logs will continually be added to the fire. And then, coffee and dessert will be served, the conversation will settle down, the puppy will fall asleep, the dishes will be washed, our guests will head home, the fire will burn down, and it will be quiet once again.