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… Continue reading Longing and weight gain; best purple cabbage ever
How does a pumpkin get from being a decoration to one of the best ingredients you can keep in your freezer? First of all, pick out the right kind of pumpkin. Our neighbor Frank Myers used to share what he called cheese pumpkins with us. They were such a pale orange they were almost white, and… Continue reading Punkin for pie. Also soups, pasta dishes, bread, etc., etc., etc.
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… Continue reading A fine day for running off the rails; roasted asparagus with a college education
Thank goodness I got up at dawn last Saturday or I wouldn’t have known I’ve moved into “a new decade.” That’s the expression at this 8 a.m. Weight Watchers meeting for dropping into a new set of numbers. In my case, that’s going below 200 pounds for the first time in four years. The last time I… Continue reading A new decade; best marinara sauce ever!
I hurt in places where I didn’t know I had places. Specifically, my triceps, my upper and lower abs. That’s from Pilates, and it actually feels kinda nice, when I shift in my seat, to be reminded that I made it all the way through a fairly brutal class yesterday.
If you’ve never tried to get smaller or fitter, you don’t know what a challenge this is. Not a floating-in-the-Mediterranean-with-no-life-jackets challenge, but difficult. Not a drug or alcohol rehab challenge but difficult. The advantage I have over the re-habbers is that the harder I work, the better I feel. I don’t think that happens as… Continue reading The road not taken nearly often enough; build-a-breakfast
Jill is dead. My younger sister, 69, my sweet, funny, bright, troubled, generous, kind, sad sister died at the beginning of this first day of summer. I’ve been waiting, but not ready, for this day since she nearly starved herself to death as a high-schooler. We had no word for anorexia then or any tools… Continue reading My sister, my self