Merrow packed her overnight bag thoughtfully. This getaway coincided with the Lover’s Moon. She would welcome a masculine presence, real or mystical, yet she wasn’t expecting any revelations as her morning tarot reading was unclear. The Star card served as a reminder to keep the faith and the Moon card predicted the existence of illusion. The Lover’s card showed up in reverse, which could be interpreted as conflict and the need to make a decision. She pondered the complicated meanings of the cards as she prepared for her journey.
“Got the survival kit packed: wand, broom, cauldron, chalice, crystals. Need to pick and bind new sage. Candles? Damn. Have to stop for a fresh pack.”
Merrow’s organizational voice carried on a conversation with itself as she placed clothing and toiletries alongside her spellcasting tools. She was an old soul and many ancestral spirits coexisted within her, each rising to the occasion when summoned and more often of their own accord. They had started as whispers and as she learned to listen and heed their advice, they had revealed themselves in signs and thoughts. Great Aunt Zelda, always the romantic, encouraged her to pack a pretty nightdress so she tucked a seafoam green silk chemise next to the altar cloth.
It had been a long night filled with people crowding our house and talking all at once. My mother alternated between crying and wailing, giving me a headache. The television blared the local station, flashing scenes from the Rockford Files with the occasional news update interrupting the program. Everyone jumped when the kitchen phone rang and hushed to hear who was calling. The cacophony returned when it was determined to be someone wanting to know if there was any new information. There wasn’t.
Hubby is most definitely a meat and potatoes kind of guy but we have been trying to limit our carbohydrate intake so often dinner just features a protein and large portion of a veggie side. Sunchokes, also known as Jerusalem artichokes, look similar to potatoes when diced or sliced and have a similar texture, but feature a sweet, nutty flavor similar to an artichoke, that only needs a few herbs and olive oil. I served these with Easter dinner (turkey ham basted in mustard, honey and brown sugar and roasted asparagus).
It was New Year’s Eve and I was cruising up the Pacific Coast Highway in my Dodge Colt. On a whim, I’d decided that morning to ring in 1987 back home in the Bay Area instead of San Diego, where I had been stationed in the Coast Guard and still lived. My SoCal girlfriends would be whooping it up at the Country Bumpkin, our dive bar of choice, two-stepping and shooting tequila and kissing every cowboy within reach at midnight. A year ago I was matching them shot for shot and kiss for kiss, but not this year.
Caprese salad is always a favorite … thick slices of juicy tomatoes, hunks of creamy mozzarella and fresh basil leaves drizzled with olive oil on a platter or in stacks. I thought this would make a colorful addition to a family diner in lieu of the usual green salad so scaled down the ingredients to miniature size and added some fresh herbs planted by the Grands. Next time, I’ll double the recipe for leftovers as it was quickly gobbled up!
Mariah set the radar alarm for a 20 mile radius, stretched out in the cockpit and closed her eyes. She had trained herself to take cat naps instead of sleeping multiple hours at a stretch. Solo-sailing required a skipper to be on constant alert.
There is something soothing about sitting down to comfort food during these tough times, plus they are also inexpensive and easy to make. Turkey is a healthy alternative to beef, but tends to be drier so the pasta sauce gives needed moisture without being greasy.
He was never physically abusive. But he was mean on a regular basis. Over the course of their 10-year marriage it eventually drove Felicia to therapy. It wasn’t couples counseling, of course. Joe didn’t think there was anything wrong with their relationship.
During this pandemic, I have the privilege and pleasure of homeschooling my Grands two to three days a week so my daughter can do her job as a behavioral therapist for special needs children, an essential service so the children don’t fall behind with their development.
This recipe was simple enough that my almost-eight-year-old Grandson could do it all by himself with just my supervision! Although he thought the can of cream of celery soup looked like “slime” and the mixture was “gross,” he loved it when he tasted the finished product.
