As a result of trying to solve the big problems we face in life, many of us end up sacrificing individual relationships by doing things that we may consider as being small or insignificant at the time. This reminds us of the George and Gracie routine where George asks Gracie, How do you cook a pot roast? She replied, I put both a big pot roast and a small pot roast in the oven. When the small one is burnt, the big one is done just right!
Nothing is more memorable than a smell.
One scent can be unexpected, momentary and fleeting, yet conjure up a childhood summer beside a lake in the mountains; another, a moonlit beach; a third, a family dinner of pot roast and sweet potatoes during a myrtle-mad August in a Midwestern town. Smells detonate softly in our memory like poignant land mines hidden under the weedy mass of years. Hit a tripwire of smell and memories explode all at once. A complex vision leaps out of the undergrowth.
My mom cooked pot roast with noodles and frozen vegetables.
Or she'd make spaghetti or hot dogs, or heat up TV dinners. Before I started modeling at age 19, I was 5'8" and weighed 165 pounds.
A minister has to be able to read a clock.
At noon, it's time to go home and turn up the pot roast and get the peas out of the freezer.