Mom had a paper plate next to her on the couch. The plate had some bits of food and crumbs on it. Mom picked up the plate and headed across the room. I was glad she was going to the kitchen to throw it out. But she wasn’t going to the kitchen. Instead Mom made a shorter trip, taking the plate over to the barrel-shaped fire implement holder, and tilted it and brushed the food into the implement holder. Then she brought the clean plate back to the couch, and carefully tucked it in behind the back of the couch cushion.
