When I had surgery my grandson gave me a get well card. All it said was kick some ass. It was an inspiring message and I tried to be a kick ass patient during my recovery. I think it worked. Kicking ass isn’t just about being an action star in a violent movie. It’s about being a leader, a voice, an organizer and and example. Go kick some ass.
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Last night I ate a Mozartkugel, a Austrian/German confection I’d never heard of before. Someone brought it to book club for the discussion of “The Afterlife of Stars.” It set me to thinking about favorite candy that I’ve loved. Chocolate has always been the favorite, changing over the years from gooey sweetness like Mounds bars to the darkest of dark chocolates I love now. Now I happily down the 85% cocoa bars that I would have found bitter as a younger person.
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Last year was a hard one. The new year brings with it a list of things to remember. It’s now time to write 2018 first among them. But more seriously, we all need to remember that everything passes and eventually things will take a turn for the better. If we work for it, that is. The advice to be the change is still needed in this new year. Let’s make it a good one, please.
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It’s funny how many kinds of holiday food I loved in my childhood haven’t made it to the table in the present. I know why – my children didn’t like the same things, so I didn’t fix them. I long for mincemeat pit and cinnamon apples, pea salad and stuffed celery. The one thing we can all agree on, ripe olives, disappear so fast you’d think they were zapped by a ray gun. Food is part of the holiday experience, but having family around is more important to me.
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I don’t know how that particular recipe for mashed potatoes became the centerpiece of holiday meals. It’s been that way for several years. Everyone loves those potatoes and looks forward to them more than the pie or any other goodies at holidays. I could say it is the cream cheese and sour cream that get beaten into the mix, but it’s more than that. It’s about something special just for family. The . . .
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It’s a plaid Pendleton wool shirt that used to belong to my dad. If I wear it long enough to get it warmed up, I can smell my dad’s sweat. I don’t do that very often, just when I really miss him and know his smell will make me feel closer to him. I have other things of his – his pocket knife, a carved duck – but they don’t carry a scent like that shirt. It takes me back to . . .
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The mambo is popular in my exercise class, but the dance I learned early and used all my life for every kind of music imaginable is the two step. Not the country-western two step they do in Texas dance halls. The two step that is two steps one way and one step back. It works for swing, rock, even techno dancing. You know that old saw about how the world would be a happy place if every child was given a ukulele at birth? Well, I add that every child should be taught to do the two step as soon as they are steady on their feet.
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Do you remember how to do things the old fashioned way? What if you were in a place like Puerto Rico and had no electricity? Ignore all the rest of their problems like water and impassable roads and no medicine. Just imagine doing without electricity.
I could make a fire and cook over it. I have a fireplace in my house so it could help keep me warm. I have a few candles, not many, to keep the dark away.
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Lately not many folks are actually sharing here on this blog. So I’m wondering if you are using the writing prompts in some other place that I don’t know about. If you are, would you tell me how? Just gimmie that much feedback, please.
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There are no regional foods anymore. Everything is everywhere. You find biscuits and gravy in the motel breakfast room in the far Northwest. You find Vietnamese restaurants on every corner in central New Mexico. Food is no longer seasonal, either. Everything is available all the time. The world is too much with us.
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