It all started out with the missing. The missing of a mother of one girl in particular, named Stephanie.
All the mother's three children were grown now, you see. They had gone away to college -- some starting, some finishing, some finished. And even though the mother sent care packages, and made phone calls, and went for visits, the house was no longer the same. The times when her family was all together seemed fewer and fewer now.
Stephanie was the oldest of the mother's three children and she had gone away the farthest. She had left for Africa, for Morocco, for Peacock Pavilions.
The mother got to thinking, got to talking, got to planning with her good natured golf-playing husband. Suddenly, tickets were purchased, cars were rented, and reservations were made.
Suddenly, they were coming -- all of them -- to Peacock Pavilions.
It was a sunny day in Marrakesh when they arrived.
We made Peacock Petals cocktails.
We sat on the terrace and sipped and toasted. And then it was time to go to the Peacock Pavilions dining tent for dinner. So down the path we went.
(One couldn't help but notice that even though they had been married for years, the mother and father still walked hand in hand and were always kind to each other.)
In the tent, there was candle light and bottles of wine.
and there was more food, of course.
There was eggplant zeluk bruschetta.
There was chocolate fondant with spiced strawberry butter.
But really, none of that was very important. What was important were the funny stories.
of the family, of all the children, together again.
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