I love to read. Stories fascinate me. When words are juxtaposed just right within a narrative, they jump out at me and I get the “goosies!” I have spiral notebooks full of exquisite phrases and sentences gleaned from reading. These words are powerful. They make me stop and think, mull over a new idea, soak in a relatable epiphany, and absorb a fresh perspective on a familiar concept.
I agree! It’s way too hot to do anything in the garden in August. That’s why I named this segment “Chores” instead of “Checklist.” Persevere and go out early in the morning to beat the heat.
Each morning, I wake up in excruciating pain. I stumble to the tea kettle, turn it on, make myself a cup, and shuffle to my corner chair in the office nook where I sit with my back cushioned by a heating pad.
“Is there anyway you can mail me a peach cobbler mom?” That was my son’s plea who lives several states over.
My father wasn’t the warm cuddly type. He didn’t play board games, not even scrabble! But as an athlete, he loved sports and interacted with us, especially my brother, in that arena. However, school, books, and homework were a definite guaranteed fulcrum around which we bonded.