Category: Emo eating
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And now, Father’s Day. Also, best fruit salad ever. With no added sugar!
OK, the good thing is: We get Mother’s and Father’s Day over within a few weeks of each other. Then I can revert to standard grump mode, as opposed to raging about the nonexistent parenting in my long-ago past. Even I realize this last hurts me as opposed to anyone else, especially those no longer…
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My year as an only child
My only sibling died a year ago today, just as summer 2016 premiered. I guess, officially, I was also an only child in the 21 months before her birth, but I’m assuming I enjoyed that. This, not so much. I miss her. No one else walks this world who knows what it was like in…
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Holiday time machine; 12 vegetables of Christmas
Is there any more effective time machine than a Christmas tree? The first ornament that was mine and only mine was given to me by my maternal grandmother, Christmas of 1952. I pull out that silver cardboard horse to hang it up and, bam!, I’m 7 years old in Watsontown, PA, waiting with dread for the…
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Longing and weight gain; best purple cabbage ever
Years ago my best friend in the newsroom, the sunniest person I’ve ever known besides our younger grandson, asked if I’d ever been sad for something I’d never had. It’s taken me more than 40 years to figure out that’s all I was! Not knowing, of course, meant I was always trying to fill that hole…
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A fine day for running off the rails; roasted asparagus with a college education
This would be the day for going stark-raving, nutso, bat-crap, screaming like a banshee, inhaling everything in sight, edible and non-. The air is like damp, gray wool. I’m reading William Styron, the master of depressive darkness. It’s Daughter’s Day and one daughter won’t answer the phone, the other had her daughter answer rudely. I’m afraid…
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Weight Watchers watching
Sunday’s USA Today crossword features shades of blue. Appropriate, because I am feeling cobalt, indigo, azure, sky, baby, teal and several others since going back to Weight Watchers three weeks ago (my fourth trip to the scales is tomorrow). The first week I was just anxious — how was I going to figure out the nifty WW phone app?…
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Guilt and lamb
Amazing how one sentence can bring someone back from the dead and slap you up’side the haid. My mother’s been dead for 18 years, and yet when I found an old letter of hers this morning, boom! This letter’s at least 20 years old, maybe more. She’s talking about a much disliked sister-in-law’s back surgery…
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One cigarette away; vegetables with oomph
So many addicts in recovery seem so affected by Philip Seymour Hoffman’s death. No way to tell if it’s more than usual at the passing of a talented young person with as many problems, or more, than talents, but everyone appears gobsmacked by the 20 years sobriety preceding his final tailspin. Those of us who slide…
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What’s your heroin?
Mine’s food; computer solitaire in a pinch. I haven’t played solitaire since Oct. 10 (the day I heard Anne Lamott talk about being involved in your life). I still feel the itch every time I sit at the computer. Nobody ever died playing solitaire, of course, but plenty of us have wasted precious hours because…
youcanteaticecreamintheshower 