Years before gourmet chocolate chip cookies made their appearance, Mom’s cookies were famous in our neighbourhood as the ultimate melt-in-your-mouth treat. If she’d opened a stand then, we’d be millionaires now.
Of course anyone I mentioned this loss to looked at me a bit incredulously and said, “You know you can have all that info online. Why use an address book?” I knew I was sounding like a horse and buggy owner complaining about the exhaust of the new motorized vehicles.
In fact, if you’d seen us later at the restaurant, laughing and talking in animated delight, you would probably not have guessed that we were a group gathered to mourn…and remember…our much-missed friend
When I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2003, once I got over the initial shock and faced the long treatment process—which spun out ahead of me like a thread unraveling from a dropped spool— I think the scariest part was the thought that I might have to have chemotherapy.
I like the feeling of knowing that there will be a “pear syrup making day” put aside each fall, guilt-free, when I can partake once more in a ritual that combines usefulness sweetness, and nostalgia.
When I walked in the front door of the Albany Carousel Project, in Albany, Oregon, I felt like I’d discovered Santa’s workshop in June…This is a place for people to learn, for people to create, for people to dream.
The spacious dining room was buzzing with the lively accents of women from Israel, Hong Kong, Germany and the Philippines. Others born in Mexico, Thailand, the U.S., Indonesia, and yes, even Canada, completed the luncheon group that day, an intercultural gathering of friends who have shared times like these for the past 25-plus years.
We just don’t talk anymore….especially face-to-face. But even a phone call is becoming increasingly rare—Call you? Are you kidding?—when email is so much more efficient…but wait, now even email (a one-way communication) is passé if you’re communicating with anyone under 40. (“Don’t email or leave a phone message…if you want to reach me, text me…or message me.”)
Quilters from around the world show their compassion for the people of Boston in the wake of the marathon bombings.
More than ever this spring, I get it….why “In spring a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” Why we celebrate, with a twinkle in our eyes and a full, light heart, the “birds and the bees, and the flowers and the trees” of spring, glorious spring.