There was a security guy who worked in our office until recently. Every day after work as I was headed home we would stop for a chat and he would tell me a joke. Him and his mates tell a lot of stories when they get together. Some true, some perhaps not so true.
It got me thinking about storytelling. And about how there is some feeling in me of a weird kind of expectation. Like somehow I should know how my friends are because of Facebook and other social media sites.
But I don’t really know how they are. Sure those places give me glimpses that I wouldn’t otherwise see.
But it’s not the same as sharing a table, pressing our hands together or wrapping them in a firm hug.
So I invited some friends over for a storytelling Sunday. Let’s catch up with each others lives and share a little bit extra.
Here was the general idea:
Everyone brings their own empty plate.
I will fill it with food.
And while we eat, lets all tell the story about how this particular piece of tableware came into our life.
It was hilarious.
And a huge success.
Even our tiniest diner (just 1 year old) had a plate and a story (as told by her mama).
Perhaps I will do another one sometime.