My husband begged, bribed, and cajoled. While this may sound like a typical ending to our weekly date night, :), it was actually an event that happened many years ago. We were in full dating, pre-marriage, mode at the time, and he’d asked me to accompany him to see Les Miserables. I was iffy about going. Not because I don’t… Read More
A Woman’ Table…
A dear friend forwarded me this. While I’m usually resistant to chain letters so to speak, I thought the sentiment had a vein of connection worth sharing as we look to a new year: My Table of 8 I am supposed to pick 8 women who have touched my life and who I think might participate. Please send this back… Read More
Christmas, Um, Creatures
The cute and cheerful online picture of “reindeer truffles†looked easy enough to recreate, so what the heck? I printed the recipe, purchased the ingredients, and got to work. (And no, the truffles are not made from actual reindeer parts. They just look like a whimsical candy deer head.) While Martha Stewart and I will never be mistaken for the… Read More
Stille Nacht
The organist, who teases the ivories with more enthusiasm than accuracy, begins the first few notes of Silent Night. Voices…young, old, loud, soft, good, and bad… join in with a sweet sentiment the rest of the year lacks. I’m sitting in my childhood church surrounded by people I’ve known seemingly forever, and I can’t finish the first verse of Silent… Read More
The Gift
A cold hand reached under the blanket and touched the skin on my back. I squeaked in protest as my sleep-state disappeared with the artic blast. Smirking at my discomfort, or my disheveled face, or both, my husband planted kisses on me as an “until later†tribute, and headed off to work. He’s cute even if he is a colossal… Read More
Reatreating Into Comfort
Nutmeg. Cinnamon. Sugar. The apple peelings curled around my paring knife, bleeding juice and leaving sticky fragrance on my hands. I rolled the piecrust into two, thin, lopsided shapes as little puffs of flour dust settled everywhere. It was mindless work, but I needed this routine, this place of comfort, as I processed the shootings at Sandy Hook. When I… Read More
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