cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
At seventy-one, I accept the reality that I am living the third third of my life. Sometimes the realization frightens me, but at other times, it brings me peace. There is nothing I can do about time marching on, so I may as well relax and enjoy. The realization that I am living the last…
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The air has a bit of a chill in it, the first leaves have started to change on our trees, sprinkling the yard with crimson, gold, and amber. Summer has past, and fall is upon us.
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As much as I hate to admit, I dance in the fray of second chances.
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I’ll be brave in the waiting, As I hold hope for those I don’t even know.
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