Thanks to our pal Bruce Barker, we got a trial start on a weekly subscription of Good Food. It’s a meal prep service that delivers all of the ingredients you need to make wonderful meals. Only olive oil, salt and pepper aren’t included.
Hands up, anyone who loves scraping layers of paint off a metal door? Anybody? Bueller? I didn’t think so.
Sunday would have been Dad’s 83rd birthday. Life expectancy for a Canadian man is just over 82 years, so I suppose he was pretty average in that way. Yes, I looked it up, trying to make sense of it and continuing to fail at making it okay that he’s gone. Reminding myself that it’s the …
Happy short work-week! I think that should become more of a thing. Long weekend. Short work-week. I’ll get in touch with Hallmark and see if we can’t get some cards made up. But I digress.
I call her Mamasita, Matka, Ma, Mom and other variations on the same theme. And when I’m serious about something, I use her full name: Mother! It’s the equivalent of her using my full name when I was a kid. Strikes terror in her heart! (not really)
Full tank of gas? Check. GPS? Check. House/pet sitter? Check. Blog posts for next week? Um, uncheck. There might be one or two.
Translation: It’s been ten years since Derek and I visited England and France. We also went to Monaco but didn’t quite make it to Italy. I’d love to spend a couple of years visiting tiny pockets of Europe. The only other European country I’ve seen is Iceland.
The personal possession purge continues. A cedar chest we acquired and have no room for; a barnboard-and-bulb-cage chandelier made by Derek; an extra motorcycle windshield we boxed up and stored – it’s all going, going, gone!
My brother and I argue about the most inconsequential things. Last week, we spent more time than I care to admit in opposition over what a piece of melted cheese looked like.
I don’t believe in saying “never” to anything on the food chain. If someone tells me they will never eat bread again, but they absolutely love bread, I’ll hold my tongue but I want to tell them they’re crazy. Where is the joy in depriving yourself of something you love?
After a life marked by illness – chronic and acute – and several conditions that resulted in frequent hospital trips and stays, our friend’s adult son chose to end his life. He had suffered heart attacks and mini-strokes for a month straight. He stopped dialysis treatments and finished his life on his terms. Bill said …