I can’t pray for you, but I can make soup. I will do my best to dice the vegetables evenly – to make each bite look pretty. If it’s my vegetable beef soup, I’ll brown the tiny cubes of meat before I add them to the broth. Otherwise, the morsels look a little gray. Maybe taupe. The soup will taste the same either way, but … Continue reading I can't pray for you
This morning I knew I’d be spending at least an hour in the kitchen making cut out sugar cookies for Christmas. I’m usually very comfortable with silence, but occasionally I’ll listen to a podcast while I’m working or stream NPR on my computer. Today I decided to try listening to music. And you know what? I think I just might like to listen to music … Continue reading Letting the music back in
Somehow when I decided to look for a new place to live, I focused so intently on that task that I completely lost my interest in writing. My mojo went house hunting, then house buying, then packing, unpacking, and so on. Perhaps because in retirement there’s so little real pressure on how I spend my days, I’ve lost the knack of multitasking. If I accomplish … Continue reading Hoping my mojo finally discovered my forwarding address
This is a post about me, and for me. I’m not going to even try to write a clever lead to entice readers to follow me – which is, after all, the point of blogging. No. It’s my Come to Jesus moment and you are free to join me, if you wish. If it resonates with you, that’s great. But it’s all about me. So. … Continue reading Proud to be a Peggy
It doesn’t take much to amuse me. Plus, I’m retired. Spending the morning thinking about, taking pictures of, and now writing about my socks does not seem like a completely pitiful waste of time. I mean, it’s definitely a questionable use of my time, but not a complete waste since I’m entertaining myself and not rummaging around in the kitchen for a snack. That’s how … Continue reading Mysterious travel socks because, why not?
It’s interesting traveling to a foreign country where English is the primary language. You might assume that communication won’t be an issue, but the different accents and slang can at times make you wonder if you’re speaking the same language at all. Case in point, in October I traveled to Northern Ireland to meet my friend Bernadette. She was born in Northern Ireland but has … Continue reading Breda’s gaze
I just addressed a get well card to a friend’s mother. She’s in the hospital back in my home town, so I went online to check the hospital’s mailing address. As I copied the street number on the envelope, I realized I didn’t need to check the zip code, even though I haven’t lived there in many years. Like my first phone number (Howard 6 … Continue reading Memory glitches