Cooking for the Equinox, by Marti Rosenquist Yesterday as I prepared for this year’s Easter feast, celebrated on the Christian calendar as the first Sunday following the first spring full moon, I was stricken with an extended period of excessive bliss—a pure, unadulterated sense of well-being which could be described as elation that can only happen when all things in your life are in balance. There is no doubt this has something to do with the moon . It was the kind of rare joy that makes you want to celebrate and weep and so, in a rare moment of being able to, I did, as I was also entertaining myself with a movie playing on the big screen of my new big-screen laptop – a movie I’d rented whilst grocery shopping the day prior from one of those little kiosks that only charge $1.99 providing they have the movie you want in stock. Yesterday they happened to have had the movie I wanted and so I finally watched The Blind Side. As I seldom sit down during the day to watch a movie, it worked out perfectly since I would be in the kitchen for four hours preparing Easter dinner for friends. The stars were in alignment as it were, and so it was I found bliss in the kitchen watching The Blind Side while making waldorf salad and searing lamb. It’s a tear-jerker even if you aren’t chopping onions. Perhaps it was the display of protective motherly love that compelled Leigh Ann Touhy to take Michael under her wing and feathering little nest beneath him for the first time in his life, with a steadfast, steely courage; her unwavering assuredness that every mother, even Michael’s own estranged mother, has to know somewhere in their being in order to go on making those heartbreaking, difficult decisions she knows instinctively could mean life or death, success or failure for this child for whom she’s been invested with the responsibility of his welfare, which emphasized the real meaning of the activity I myself undertook whilst watching the award-winning film.  Maybe there was some parallel which gave me such an immense sense of satisfaction and contentedness. I’ve cared for children. Lots of them. I care for my friends and family. I’d go on that limb. Leigh Ann Touhy , designer, mother, wife, booster, would otherwise be known forever as a run of the mill upscale soccer mom until she made a fateful decision to extend herself beyond what would ever be reasonably expected when the opportunity presented itself. Michael presented himself to hundreds of people before encountering Ms. Touhy but it was in that momentous act of courage, -- as with all great things -- where her true mettle would be tested. By answering yes she would change a life as surely as the hero who leaps from the bridge to rescue the drowning. What has this to do with me making Easter dinner for friends? Well, I’m trying to figure that out. Like everyone, I have often been called upon in this life and have extended myself well beyond the usual, I thought. But did I go far enough? Did I have the courage to dive full in or did I listen to the girls at lunch who shook their heads, tucked back into the salads and called me crazy for going on that limb when everything in my life could be perfectly ordered and fine – like theirs  if only I didn’t? Better question – when the going got rough did I stick to the guns or did that doubt start nagging and picking at my ego like the devil when things start to hurt?  My calling has usually been to perform the routine. In spite of my vainglorious dreams of Pulitzer prizes and Academy awards, my so called glorious life has been pre-empted since childhood by run of the mill exploitations of my motherly instincts; cooking, caring for children, mine and others, and no matter where my dreams of glory take me in my mind the mundane seem to be for me where all struggle ceases, where the reward is immense and the sense of bliss most assured. It’s addictive that way and so easy. It’s taken a long time for me to realize there is a wonder right there in that. So as I make this food for my friends too busy and hassled to do it for themselves this year, now that my children are grown and gone, I find I’m still in the kitchen cooking multitudinous dishes as if an army were coming for supper. Even when I don’t have to I can’t stop myself. I cook; therefore I am. Yet, I fly in my dreams. I’ve gone through my entire life vacillating between what I think I could do/be if only I had the stalwart self-assurance of a Leigh Ann Touhy… but wait! Was it the support that Leigh Ann Touhy had that was missing in my life until now? If I’d told my former husband(s), “Pull over – pick up that kid. Let’s adopt him,” they’d have divorced me. In fact, they did divorce me for much lesser offenses. But, I know, I know, I married ‘em… and it wasn’t all bad.  Can’t imagine my life without those children. Plus, I actually do derive such satisfaction from all they preferred I did; the cooking and caring and such. Though not of the ilk that bring accolades and awards, the focus on food, family, a fine life-style that keeps everything in balance and humming along does in fact put smiles on my friends and families faces while allowing me a creative outlet in accordance with my own program and schedule.  I don’t think life gets much better than that after all -- unless, I were to add “dusting off the Oscar” to my weekly homemaker’s to-do list.   I’ll work on that right after I finish baking this pie…