Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving, friends. I know this year’s holiday isn’t the one we all wanted or planned for, but it’s the one we have. And that leads me to the next two lessons I’ve learned in 2020. First, things can’t stay the same forever even as much as we want them to. Even in “normal” years, … Continue reading Happy Thanksgiving

I Love to Ride My Bicycle

Learning to ride a bicycle is a rite of passage. You move up from the safety of three wheels to the precarious-looking two. Maybe you have training wheels to start, but it’s not too long before you’re off and running … er, riding. And those two wheels are where you spend a huge part of … Continue reading I Love to Ride My Bicycle

A Tale of Two Gumbos

A gumbo with no roux — that’s crazy talk, right? Who ever heard of such a thing? A gumbo with no roux… I’m pretty set in my ways about a few things, and gumbo is one of them, as I have written before (you can read that post here). But if 2020 has taught us … Continue reading A Tale of Two Gumbos

Anticipation: The Key to Joie de Vivre

Hey friends! After a month-long pity party during which time I couldn’t think of a single thing to write that wasn’t (a) whiney or (b) bitchy or (c) hateful, your girl is back. I know y’all don’t want to read that crap, so I won’t write it! After all, this ain’t therapy and I ain’t … Continue reading Anticipation: The Key to Joie de Vivre

Lilylivered

Chicken livers. Tragedy* loves chicken livers. Specifically fried chicken livers.  Being the good wife that I am, I decided that if he wanted them, he should have them. No...I did not order takeout. No...I did not have some delivered. I decided to make them at home...from scratch.  That's why this story is a testament to … Continue reading Lilylivered

Stop Whistling and Start Singing

Whistling past the graveyard.  That phrase has been running through my mind all week long like it’s on a neverending loop.  Whistling past the graveyard.  Whistling past the graveyard.  Whistling past the graveyard. Frankly that’s how most of these essays get started. Some little thing — a memory, an image, a notion, a saying — … Continue reading Stop Whistling and Start Singing