Tag Fun

Not so famous last words

Michael 11 Comments

There are entire books of famous last words. Most of them are famous solely because they were said by famous people rather than being famous because they were profound. There are some that are a little of both. Benjamin Franklin’s last words were, “A dying man can do nothing easy.” The back story – that was in response to his daughter telling him to turn over in bed so he can breathe more easily. Sort of profound on its own. Now that you know the story behind it, it sounds like something I’d say!

Anyway, most last words will never be remembered by someone other than to whom they were spoken, except for last words you see and hear every day.

An exceptionally famous set of last words seldom seen today, was de rigueur in a different century, early in a different century, was “the end,” seen on the last page of every book and last card of every movie.

Other last words often more memorable are the last words you see when that car passes you on the highway and you get a look at their license plate, license plate frame, or bumper sticker. There are some pretty clever examples of two of the above specifies at the links noted. I’ve not yet succumbed to a vanity license plate although the frame I have around the classic plate on Rosemary the Little Red Car reads, “Aged to Perfection. Old Guys Rule!”

I saw an interesting sight just yesterday that I had heard of but never had seen in the wild with my own eyes. A Tesla car with its stylized “T” removed and replaced with a lightning bolt. Not quite a last word but a lasting impression.

A particular type of last word I have a difficult time with is the one to end a text message conversation. Not a quick message like “on my way.” That doesn’t even require an answer. But the conversations that go back and forth for a while, the things that have taken the place of phone calls. Phone calls were easy to end. The last word typically was a simple “bye” plus or minus a dear, hon, or second bye. An e-mail’s last words are like any other correspondence. But a text message. No good way out of that and when you usually decide on a last word, it’s more likely an emoji.

Now I’m not sure what kind of last words would be best to tack on the end of these words. I think I’ll steal Michael Landon’s last words. On his deathbed, his son said to him, “I think it’s time to move on.” Landon’s reply – “You’re right. It’s time. I love you all.” Actually, it’s his last, last words that mean the most. I love you all.

Are you talking to me?

Michael 2 Comments

There are times when the things I think I think are stranger than the things I think and that I know. Like the other day, I was reading for enjoyment, yes a novel concept and every now then I do get the chance to take on such an inviting task. As is typical for my leisure activities, murder played a major role. Another major role was played by a major. A retired major I would assume because he was described as a “gentleman with a private income” and became a major (sorry) suspect. Now here’s what I think I think about that. At least I think I thought this.

Stories, whether played on pages, screen, or stage, set anytime through the early twentieth century and/or in England through modern days, are filled with captains, majors, colonels, and the occasional admiral or general (or brigadier (across the pond)). I think it would cool to actually see that happen in practice and/or real life. (And for all I know, it does – across the pond.)

Except for the odd “Mr. Michael” from a barely English speaking customer service phone representative, I never am never offered any honorific, haven’t hear a title associated with my name since I left hospital practice. But if people were to start introducing, and speaking of and to me as “Captain,” I could get along with that. And I promise I wouldn’t ever give reason to suspect me as the murderer. Everybody knows the butler always did it. (I wonder if I could still fit in my old uniforms. I’m sure the hat would still fit me.)

There is absolutely no way to tie this in with yesterday’s Uplift post other than to say it’s Thursday, it must be time for my shameless weekly plug. So…shamelessly speaking, if you know where you’re going and you know how to get there, trust that you will get there. Knowing where you’re going is more important than how fast you get there. You might even get there at the speed of popcorn. Check out, You’re a Pop Star at ROAMcare.org, this week’s Uplift offering.

Cite your sources

Michael 12 Comments

Somewhere sometime someone is having a crisis. It’s me!

I’m having a crisis. I am losing touch with the part of the world that feeds me information and I’m worried I am starting to sound like a one of those people who spouts so-called facts that you know aren’t true. Their verity may be questioned without question because they (the facts) are so ludicrous that nobody but a Dimwit Donny Disciple (DDD) would believe them (e.g., did you know gas is only $1.98/gallon), or because they (the fact-spouters) are DDDs or DD hisself.

Believe it or not, this is not a political post. It’s a true personal crisis. I’m forgetting not things, but that which made me aware of the thing. Don’t question. Just read on. It will become clear.

It came to me when I mentioned to my daughter, “I just read somewhere that keeping cut fruit in the fridge in glass containers will add at least 2 days to their use by date versus storing them in plastic.” This isn’t something I dreamed or something I overheard in the produce section while working my way around the gaggle of grocery gals gathered in front of the mango display. This was a real “read somewhere” moment, but I can’t recall where. If it was say in Food Network Magazine, then it’s probably a pretty good tip. Likewise in the food section of the newspaper or a real food expert’s social site. On the other hand, if I read it in the comments section of an online recipe or in the social site of the dingy broad who records entire recipes in 30 seconds and posts them to a site known for lip-synched videos and blasphemous AI generated images, it likely is as true as claims of sub $3.00 eggs (per dozen, not apiece).

This worries me because I always would be able to recite the source of my information as readily as the information. I know I found the cut fruit tidbit in a respected, responsible source, but not being able to recite that source feels like I should be being fitted for a red hat. (By the way, why does the Dummy in Chief always have those stupid hats on its desk in the Oval Office. Is there a merch table at the back of the room to visit between acts?) if I should be challenged in the fresh fruit freshness extension tip, I wouldn’t be able to cite my source other than to say, “I read it somewhere.” Well, that’s not an answer. I might as well expound on the sphericalosity of the earth without doing the math.

So you now understand my crisis. (You do, don’t you?) How will I ever be taken seriously again. How will I ever take myself seriously again. I won’t be long before I begin a conversation with, “I saw somewhere that someone did something that I thought was interesting. What do you think?” My sole reasonable conversation partners will be clairvoyants, mediums (It is mediums not media when you’re speaking of those who communicate with dead, right?) (I figure they’d be a decent one to chat with considering by then I’d be at least brain dead), or DDDs (because they are experienced in listening to unfounded, unproven, unreliable sources of disinformation).

Anyway, I read somewhere than fresh cut fruit stored in glass containers will extend its life. That all I had to say.

Undressed for Success

Michael 14 Comments

Okay guys, buckle up.  This is one if those posts. I know some if you will, “just don’t look,” but I’ll say, “then don’t go out in public like that.” The public was a doctors’ office waiting room. Yes, that’s doctors plural. One of those places with 45 different physicians with 45 different sub-specialties. So there are usually a couple dozen patients, some with the entourages, filling up the chairs placed with about as much attention to spatial management as the average airport gate area.

The”who” who couldn’t be overlooked was a 50-60ish woman about as skinny as a dining room table leg. Seriously thin. But of above average height. I would say about 5’10” – 5’11” and she carried about 20 pounds. I’ve seen sacks of potatoes heavier and dowel rods chunkier. Some how, she managed to find clothes tight enough to look painted on those legs that could be the literal “pins” as slang for women’s legs going back to the 1500s. Capri style naturally. But that wasn’t the eye catching portion of her body. At least it was t the part that caught my eye.

She walked in – no, she wobbled in on strappy sandals, the type you might find cruising the runway if your local fashion shoe, except they sported a 4 inch platform adding to her obvious natural height. But we still haven’t gotten to the eye catching part.

Stuffed into those sandals (and I’m not sure how you “stuff” something into somewhere that is built mostly of leather straps, but stuffed they wear) were foot so long the entire length of all 10of her toes extended beyond the front edge of the footwear. Made more noticeable by the lime green nail polish.

In 99.7% of my interactions with other humans, including the just see and be seen variety, I am a live and let live, you do you, whatever floats your boat, play it as you like it. Every now and then comes the other 0.3%. And she was it.

I am the first to admit, even before other people see me, that I a, not a fashion plate of the male variety. There were, are, and never will be pin-up pictures of me gracing the insides of women’s lockers, and I dress a tad more conservatively for the 21st century than the average male. But I do dress, and I cover all my parts, including the parts that don’t comfortably fit within the confines of clothing, sometimes even breaking down and being a larger size of said clothing if the current occupants of my closet are not up to the challenge. Is that too much to ask for of my fellow planet sharers.

I think you for the chance to get that off my chest. If you’ll excuse me, I must now write apology letters to all those when saw me at dinner last Saturday wearing a half-Windsor knotted tie when a Kelvin was definitely the least acceptable.

The things people do

Michael 11 Comments

People watching should be an official event. I’m not sure if it should be a sport or a game or an unstructured pastime, but it needs to be something. I was convinced of this when we went out to lunch yesterday. The entire restaurant was in people watching mode, and personally, I can’t think of a better way to pass the time.

Nobody doesn’t mind their own business but somehow, it works. From the moment we walked in the restaurant we heard it (and we knew we were among our people). Murmurs of, “Such cute sandals!” “Look at that skirt, the one with the print!” “I want those earrings!” (Nobody said anything about my tie. Bummer.) After we were seated, we were able to join in. “Look, is that the crab cake or the crab cake salad?” “I don’t know but I’m definitely getting that for dessert…The one over there.” “I don’t see that on the menu, be sure to ask if it’s one of today’s specials.”

The best part of people watching in a restaurant is that people are constantly coming and going, so there are always new things to ooh and aah over. And unlike just a few years ago, it’s all open and above board. Nobody is sneaking around anymore trying to catch a glimpse of how the filet is served. If you can’t tell, you just lean over and ask your table neighbors.

Yes, the restaurant is THE place to people watch.

I’m a people watcher from way back. Back in the day we had to hide our watching or at least be minimally circumspect of who we were watching. Bars were always a good place because you can blame the 1,000 mile stare when you can’t believe someone would come out in public like that by blaming it on being over-served. Pools were reasonable people spotting spots mostly because anybody who went to one was planning on being watched anyway. Of course, they were also sort of the classic double-edged sword. People didn’t mind being watched, but they never did anything worth watching. Yes, for sheer volume of sights, bars were the place to be. Not late night. After work happy hour was the best time.

That was then though. This is now, and now the place is a restaurant, a little crowded, preferably mostly filled with people who don’t get out much. (You know. My people.) And for maximum participation, wear the dangling earrings and order the special.

Poor me. Alas, I knew me well

Michael 8 Comments

The great comedian, song and dance man, and Gracie’s husband, George Burns said, “I wake up every morning and I read the obituaries. If my name isn’t in there, I eat breakfast.” Somewhere around 517 other lesser stage dwellers have also uttered those lines. I too read the obituaries every morning but I like breakfast, it’s my favorite morning meal, so I am sure to read them after breakfast so if I am there, I won’t miss my eggs that day. Imagine my surprise when last week I found me there. Hold that thought, we’ll be back in a moment.

Checking the obituaries is not a morbid pastime. In addition to seeing if there might be a name I recognize, it is also a way of centering oneself to the day, and to remind oneself of the true importance of the day. One thing all those people in all those little notices have in common is that they won’t have today. It is a great honor to be able to be the recipient of another day. It is why every morning the first t thought I verbalize is, “Thank you God for another day. Help me become the person you want me to be today.”

With all that said, you can imagine my surprise when I say my name in last Thursday’s list of those who will not be aging another day this year. It’s a fairly common name but it’s still a shock to see it in writing, unless it’s in the sections devoted to lottery winners or unexpected awardees of a major endowments. What really sent. my heart aflutter, the age was right. I seriously began to regret that morning’s breast was a simple sausage and egg sandwich on a muffin with fresh berries in yogurt and not something more fitting for a last meal. Eventually I calmed down long enough to notice the middle initial was different from mine. Whew! That was close.

It solidified in my the long held contention to approach each day expecting the unexpected. We broached that subject yesterday at the ROAMcare Uplift post Up Down Round and Round, only we didn’t compare life to the obituary column.  Use used an amusement park instead. I think it turned out pretty well. Check it out and see if you agree.

Sunshine Superman

Michael 12 Comments

Okay 1960s music fans, tell me all you can about Donovan’s musical valentine that made it to #1 on the Billboard’s pop chart in 1966. Other than the phrase “Sunshine Superman” is never uttered among the rambling lyrics. Time’s up. I don’t know that much about it either. He wrote it for his then girlfriend/future wife although they may have already had one of their kids by then. It was a confusing time.  I only bring it up because I personally am a Sunshine Superman. Or. Sunshine Blogger Superman, now having been twice singled out (once doubled out?) for the honor. This time you can blame it on Vicki at Victoria Ponders. If you were around in April 2018, you could blame Sue. I’d include a link to her blog also because why not, but she is no longer blogging.

It doesn’t seem like that long ago does it. Um, 2018, not 1966. Seven years. Your basic Statute of Limitations interval. In 2018 I was tagged with tagging 8 others for the Sunshine Blogger Award. A few weeks before that, in January 2018, I was tapped for the Blogger Recognition Award which included a requirement to nominate 10 others. My nominator for that award is also no longer blogging. In fact, of the 18 blogs that I singled out between the two awards, four bloggers are still plying these pixels, one of them quite sporadically.

 Enough Memory Laning, let’s get down to business with this year’s festivities. Fair warning, this a lot to this post. Pull up a chair and get comfy.

According to dear Vicki, the rules are:

  • Display the award’s official logo somewhere on your blog.
    • Thank the person who nominated you.
    • Provide a link to your nominator’s blog.
    • Answer your nominators’ questions.

Easy enough. Except it isn’t. More on that later. Let’s get started with the easy stuff, with a hearty Thank you [Yay!] to Vicki, and her remarkable writings on this platform at Victoria Ponders. The logo is here somewhere, look around. Now on to the semi-easy stuff. Miss Victoria’s Eleven Queries.

What is your morning routine?
Mornings and I have a complicated relationship. Even though most days I don’t have to be up at any time in particular I still crawl out of bed early, often just as the sun is rising (except in winter when it’s pert near noon(!) before the sun crests the horizon). Take whenever the exact time I get out of bed and go back about 10 minutes. That’s when I thank God for another day and take a few minutes of silent meditation.  We are then out of bed, heading for formal prayers, morning ablutions, a couple good morning messages, then juice and coffee while I make breakfast.

What is your favorite season? Why?
I just walked a similar path in comments to a blog by Ally at The Spectacled Bean regarding most and least favorite months. My favorite month is October so by extension my favorite season is Fall. I’m not a good cold-weather person. I want warmth and sun and one of my favorite spots in the world is Puerto Rico. Still, I could not go through a year without the crisp Autum air, the first hint of wood burning in fireplaces while taking a walk, picking apples and making fresh apple soup (delicious), and marveling over the colors, oh the colors. Yep. Fall.

What is your favorite childhood memory?
Childhood was so long ago. I’m not sure if the memories are memories of what happened or memories of what I thought happened. A lot of the memories aren’t necessarily the happiest things a kid can go through, like being lowered through the basement window to unlock the doors after a vacation because the keys were undiscoverable and I was the only one small enough to get through the little vent like window. I think the fondest of the memories all centered around vacations, which for us were road trips to visit relatives. I don’t recall many parks, or rides, or games, but I remember the trips to wherever from the back seat of the family car. I wrote about that back seat here.

Who or what has been your most unlikely teacher?
Now the questions are getting harder. I will give you a who. The artist, Andy Warhol. And it isn’t because I’m still looking for those 15 minutes. He once said “Don’t think about making art. Just get it done. Let everyone else decide if it’s good or bad, whether they love it or hate it. While they are deciding, make even more art.” What I took from that is don’t spend so much time thinking about doing something that you never get around to doing it, or waiting for THE perfect moment that never comes around. I wrote about that too. That one is over at ROAMcare, Think less, do more, then do more again.

Who or what are you most proud of?
Without a question, that’s a who and that’s the daughter, who let me think I was teaching her how to be a good person when all the while, she was teaching me.

What is something that surprises people about you?
Without a doubt, that I have a creative side. My entire professional life has been analytic, whether in practice, or when teaching, or even in volunteer positions where I’d usually head some committee or be stuck doing the finances. There are few who realize I can paint, play piano, and write. Am I an artist, a pianist, an author? No, but I could play one of each on TV.

What motivated you to start blogging?
I dunno. I’ll get back to you on that.

What forms of entertainment do you enjoy the most?
This varies depending on mood but I’m always in the mood for an old movie, a 1930’s, 40’s, 50’s movie, preferably something with at least one murder and one that’s been adapted from a book so I can read it and argue with myself about which is better.

If you are a book reader, do you prefer a paper copy or a digital copy?
I’ll read anything, book, digital, magazine article or serial (do they do that anymore?), but I prefer a book. I really do geek over the feel and the smell and the heft of a book and the physical turning of the pages and seeing the story progress as much as feeling it.

What’s your favorite music genre, and who is your favorite singer?
That’s a little of a toss-up. For straight up listening or playing, it would be jazz, modern, smooth, traditional, any sort of jazz and by far my favorite artist/composer is pianist David Benoit. But… you can’t sing jazz in the shower. For that, it’s 1960’s ballads.

What societal causes do you care about the most?
Healthcare. Fair, equitable, reasonable, affordable healthcare. Between battling a rare disease, bladder cancer, and a failed kidney transplant all in short order, I nearly bankrupted myself. I’d love to see some equitable distribution of services so we at least can provide basic primary care to everyone. We never will because “they” have discovered most people will pay anything to stay alive so more providers will charge anything. I honestly do believe if I were to hit a lottery for $8 billion or so, I’d open as many free clinics as I could and treat as many people as possible until the well ran dry. Maybe it would encourage others to do the same.

So that’s the easy and the not so easy part of this assignment. Now according to the rules, which haven’t changed in 7 years. I must craft a set of questions to be answers by a group of unsuspecting bloggers. I hesitate to name “up to 11” fellow bloggers because you see what happened the last time. Most of them are gone, poof, disappeared. I’d hate that to happen to any of you.

But first, the questions. These will be easy, at least as far as I can tell.

  1. What is your worst bad habit or secret vice?
  2. Would you rather read or write?
  3. How do you describe yourself physically and does your go to ID picture look like that?
  4. How do you describe yourself emotionally?
  5. Are you an Oscar or a Felix? And do you understand the reference or did you have to research it?
  6. What celebrity, living or dead, would you like to have dinner with.
  7. What is the longest drive or ride (including bus or train rides) you have ever taken?
  8. Cat, dog, both, other, neither?
  9. What’s the most embarrassing thing in your refrigerator?
  10. Do you have a superstition or what do you do to avoid bad luck or encourage good luck?
  11. If you couldn’t live where you live now, what different country would you pick based on beauty, culture, what you know, what you hear or read about, and price is no object?
  12. If you couldn’t live when you live now, what different time or historical era would you pick based on however you pick such a thing?

Now for the hardest part of this nonsense, errr honor. Picking others to follow in my footsteps. First, a review of the rules:

  • Display the award’s official logo somewhere on your blog.
    • Thank the person who nominated you.
    • Provide a link to your nominator’s blog.
    • Answer your nominators’ questions
    • Nominate up to 11 bloggers.
    • Ask your nominees 11 questions.

I honestly hesitate to do this, but here we go.

First, Vicki at Victoria Ponders, I really would like to hear your answers so to you I extend my questions but you can skip all the other rigmarole, errr details.

I should stop right there. Some people I would forward this to have received the same from either Vicki or one or two levels up. There are a few people I’d love to hear from although I’d understand if these don’t fit your blog’s concept.

Kris at Around the Corner

Belle at Between the Lyme

For Rachel (Rachel Mankowitz) and Dayle (Tip of the Iceberg), I know this isn’t the sort of thing you would write about but you do bring me sunshine and I certainly won’t exclude you.

Wynne (Surprised by Joy) and Ally (The Spectacled Bean), I’d love to include you but it’s terribly unfair of me to asks you to do all this again. But then I am sort of telling Vicki I want her to do it again so what do I know.

And of course, anybody else who wants to have at it, have at it. Years ago, I was much more active writing, reading, and commenting. Today, I read a select but cherished few and comment even less, but I do read and I do enjoy. I think I’ll stop now.

Where were you when…

Michael 16 Comments

The last couple of weeks have had some interesting stories in the news, and I don’t mean articles detailing the machinations of a chainsaw wielding immigrant or an orange skinned man-child. I’m talking about interesting stories, real life stuff.

Although I suppose there was a specific date when the world decided to shut down, the media, social and mainstream, must have gotten together and declared it was early March 2020 and have been busily writing up every 5 year COVID anniversary story they can imagine. How healthcare has changed, how cooking has changed, how exercise has changed, how travel has changed, notable moments in the history of, or the lingering effects on life after COVID. It’s a good thing we had that pandemic or else people would be filling up their column inches (and the pixelated equivalent) with really far-fetched stuff like Presidential executive orders banning skinny jeans or renaming established geographic entities. But I digress.

As much as I enjoyed reading the timeline of recent history almost as much as I enjoyed living through the timeline of recent history, the most interesting articles addressed food. If you were to say that makes sense to you because you know I like food a lot more than I like history, you are right! Even though I did get an A in history throughout my junior high school career or whenever we learn about history because those who do not learn their history are doomed to repeat it.

Apparently, something we aren’t doomed to repeat, or aren’t privileged to repeat, is more home cooking. A U.S. Department of Agriculture survey conducting in 2024 indicated people are spending 55.7% of their food budget on dining out. But…there’s always a but when you start talking statistics…but, according to a national association of restaurants and restaurateurs, more people are ordering take-out and enjoying their dining out dollars at home, including double digit increases in people purchasing complete major holiday meals (think Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter). All this while inflation supposedly had been escalating more rapidly than Dingy Donald’s golf scores. (To be fair (yes,I can be), according to the National Restaurant Association, restaurant prices increased 27.2% from February 2020 to June 2024.)

As I read some of the articles, I discovered new to me 5 year old information. For example, did you know there was a yeast shortage during the pandemic? Now, I am a bread maker. Bread, pizza, rolls. All things yeasty. (Not beer. I’m not crazy about beer and every “home-brew” I have ever tasted seemed to want to challenge rhubarb as the most bitter stuff you can put in your mouth.) Like the rest of the world, I was baking bread nearly every Saturday during the pandemic. But I also was baking bread nearly every Saturday before and since the pandemic, and because I was/am a constant baker (not to be confused with a constant gardener), I buy yeast in 2 pound blocks.  Guess I sailed right through the “shortage” with the couple packs I always have in the freezer. Who knew?

What changes from 2020 are you still living with, or without, or would like to again? Maybe next week we should talk about how exercise has changed. Gotta work off all those bread calories. See you then!

IMG_4782

When eyes are smilin’

Michael 10 Comments

A chance encounter reminded me of an old post here that led to a new post there. It’s been a couple of weeks since I visited the walk in wobble out same day surgery center at the local big time hospital. It was on the way in that I had my mind’s eye opened.

Almost exactly 8 years ago (March 30, 2017 to be exactly exact) I posted about The Hi Guys. What could have happened all this time later to remind me of that ancient text. A near exact (there’s that word again) encounter as the one that led to the post. Back then it was a grocery store, this time it was a hospital. Both life saving institutions in their own way. But what was it. It was the greeting and the smile of an absolutely complete stranger that turned a day of anticipated dread into one of realizing the world really isn’t such a bad place after all. (Except for Washington, DC. There it’s the pits and will for always and ever and/or until January 2029 be so.)

Anyway, to see what that was, take a look at The Hi Guys and see how a simple nod or hello can become a powerful incentive to making someone smile and maybe, just maybe making their day.
While you’re there, sign up to join the ROAMcare community. It’s the only way you’ll get to see what tomorrow’s Friday Flashback will be.

HiGuys

Happy Things

Michael 15 Comments

I had some of the snarkiest content ready for this week when I decided I didn’t want to add to the spectacle. If you haven’t yet figured out Washington is now full of parasitic nutcases, nothing I can say is going to change that clearly wrong thinking you are holding on to.

Instead, I am going to heed my own advice and make me happy. It was in a ROAMcare post from last fall when we wrote, “The most positive thing you can do to offer happiness to someone is to be happy for yourself and to be happy with yourself.” It is in that spirit that I offer you that which made me happy last week and maybe you will gain a smile from it too.

You know that two weeks ago I had surgery on my arm and for a couple days, if I wanted my arm to go anywhere with me it came along in a wheelbarrow because like a newborn, it had to be carried everywhere it went. I am happy to say since early last week I have regained all movement and flexibility in that appendage. I may never be able to throw a curve ball again but I never could anyway so there’s that. I still am limited to lifting nothing heavier than a small hard bound novella but I expect by next month I should be able to tote around a Stephen King novel.

I was at a meeting Thursday and as we standing about and talking someone asked now that spring is coming, if we were plants or flowers, what we do to prepare ourselves for the new season. I didn’t even have to think about it. If I was a plant, I’d tear myself up from the roots, toss me in the compost pile, mix me around a little, and take another shot at things. I think everybody probably could stand to have a little overly dramatic self-rejuvenation project and come out the better for it.

Yesterday I made a fabulous breakfast for my weekly Sunday ‘meal of any kind’ with the daughter. Little breakfast slider sandwiches with eggs, bacon, sausage, cheese, onions, bell pepper, spiced with chili powder, smoked paprika, and (hold on now) cinnamon and baked together in sweet Hawaiian rolls. Did I mention they were delicious.

It’s been two weeks since Jingle went to doggie heaven. Two days ago, we were introduced to a new member of the family. Daughter said his spirit said it was the right dog who came along at the right time. Meet Gabby.

IMG_4745

In last week’s ROAMcare Uplift post we wrote about the power of positive thought. I think this worked out pretty well.

Have a great week. We’ll talk again soon.