cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Money was tight. I mean tight. There wasn’t any extra, not a lick. We had stepped out in faith to build the house. THE house. This was the house we would stay in forever. This was the house our children would move out of and our grandchildren would run into. We had been working and…
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Hectic smells, feelings of anticipation, and gurgles in my throat for sparkling cider brew. Sure, there will be cranberries, jello with surprises, or green bean casserole, but I had discovered from an early age how to dispose of unwanted onions, and other things in the napkin on my lap during thanksgiving dinner. Instead, I focus…
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For most of my children’s lives Easter included the excitement of dying and hunting eggs and candy brought in the middle of the night by the Easter bunny.
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My history does not lend itself to be very forgiving or much less welcoming of others into my kitchen.
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Being embraced by others is sometimes a challenge for me.
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Be quiet. Shut up! Shhhh. Stop talking! Hands over ears, I can’t hear you. La, la, la.
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