When I was a child, my father greeted the morning far earlier than the rest of the family. Being a farmer at heart, he’d get up before the sun peeked through the distant tree line, make himself a toasted velveeta and mustard sandwich, and quietly slip out the back door undetected. I was used to…… Continue reading Small gestures
It’s funny how we can develop attachments to inanimate objects; I feel bad trading in a car. I can’t imagine selling a home you’ve lived in for 48 years, but that is exactly what my parents are doing; they are literally selling the farm. Farmstead – 1804 For so many reasons I am happy for…… Continue reading Selling the farm
We have a friendly pair of bar stools waiting for us at the end of each week. We have selectively weaned out those stools in our favorite watering holes that do not offer us optimum space, premium access to the bartender, and the most satisfying ambience. Of course, we can adjust if need be, but…… Continue reading Bar stool anthology
“The Sweet and Sour”: toasted white bread smeared with peanut butter and jelly, then topped with a layer of smooth soft creamy Velveeta- the undisputed king of all processed cheese products, and finished with a squirt of mustard and a swipe of mayonnaise. “When’s the last time you ate that,” I asked my Dad, incredulous. “Two weeks ago,” he…… Continue reading When’s the last time you ate that?