Something I never expected to hear: Stoic the Vast saying, “Wow (!), I can’t believe how much I like these.” Nothing new for me — I’ve loved Brussels sprouts since before I can remember, but Stoic… These sprouts from the March issue of Our State — Celebrating North Carolina magazine, though, are something else. The… Continue reading Boffo Brussels sprouts
I feel sure Norman Rockwell never painted a Christmas holiday picture of a frantic elf stepping over plumbing fixtures in her bathroom, blowing sheet rock dust off every cosmetic and lotion on the counters. Yet that’s the picture in our house six days before my second hip replacement. I am going to try very,… Continue reading Norman Rockwell — not! Honey-mustard carrots
Tomorrow morning, to paraphrase Anne Lamott’s birthday column opener, I’m going to wake up 70 years old (9 years older than she). I am delighted that 1) I will most likely wake up; and 2) I will be at least 30 pounds lighter than on my 69th birthday. I’ve worked really hard on this; in fact, for… Continue reading 70 is the new awesome
So Thanksgiving dinner, I read, can easily amount to 3,000 calories. Yikes, as Leonard’s mother says on “Big Bang Theory” — that’s about TWICE what I’m supposed to eat in a day to lose 1 pound per week. Add to that, we’ll be in the truck for at least 7 hours on Thursday and I… Continue reading Giving thanks on the road
I wonder if any other of my classmates has to buy a new fence charger before our 50th reunion in 2.5 weeks. When I went out to put on fly masks this morning, we had a free range quarterhorse, and it will not do if any of our three amigos range onto N. Meadow Rd.… Continue reading 2 pounds and 2 weeks ’til reunion!
Twenty-four pounds gone — halfway to my wedding weight of 1984 — and my success to this point and forward depends so much on what we pull from the garden and from the piles of local produce at the farmers’ markets. This week it was the last of our spring broccoli and our entire kohlrabi… Continue reading Joy in the garden
Mike and Trudy Howard haven’t yet put up the strawberry signs along US 901, but I called yesterday and they’d picked a few gallons, still only $8 each. So spring begins, truly, madly, deeply. I ate three of the fist-sized berries on the drive home and added a cup of scarlet slices to last night’s… Continue reading Strawberries, sweet strawberries