Giving Up

Sitting

Silent tears streaming down my cheeks

Feeling you slip away

Fading to nothingness

Until it’s as if you’d never been there

As if we’d never shared the connection that once bound us

As if our love never existed

I’m an empty shell

Lost again in loneliness

Heart so shriveled

Senses shutting down

I gather what little is left

Struggling to salvage some semblance of me

Then I pause

Wondering why I still bother to fight

Why I bother to try

There’s nothing left

And no one to care

I sigh sadly

Letting the tears flow

And admit I’m not worth it

Not even to me

So I turn and go

Drifting into the void

And though I can’t feel you there

In my damaged soul

I know it’s one last thing that we share

It's Always Something

Last week, I came home one day to a notice attached to my door. A water department inspector had apparently visited and decided the meter inside my house needs to be repaired. I was given two weeks to see to it before they shut off my water.

Hmm, okay. My water usage is read by way of a gizmo located on the outside of my house but I called the number as instructed anyway. Remarkably, I was connected to a very pleasant woman who understood I would not be leaving work in order to deal with this as doing so would jeopardize my ability to pay my water bill. She took all my information, including that I was home early on Thursdays and stated someone would be calling me.

Someone did! Believe it or not, there are two pleasant people working in the customer service center. Located in Philadelphia, by the way. Reading no longer has personnel to deal with such things. She very nicely set up an appointment for me today.

So last night I rearranged things in my basement in order for the repairman to get to the corner where the old meter is located. I got home at precisely three as I said I would and sitting in front of my house was a water department truck with a third pleasant individual! Fourteen minutes later I had a brand new, shiny meter and he was on his way.

All that’s left to do is call the other number tomorrow to inform the inspection folks that the repairs are completed. Then, as I’m sure is the whole point of this exercise, they will promptly begin to charge me the new, higher rate as they’ve been promising to do for the last six months.

Dubious Distinction

Reading, PA hit the New York Times this week. But not in a good way. The census has determined that out of nearly 600 cities with populations of over 65,000 Reading has the largest share of residents living below the poverty level. At roughly 41% that equates to over 36,000 people. How’s that for sad? Not to mention scary.

One of the largest contributing factors to this is Reading’s dwindling job market. Over the past few years several large employers have packed up and left the area. The powers-that-be deem the area’s lack of education a main cause for why other industries aren’t flocking in, snapping up all the empty manufacturing space that’s available.

There is likely something to that. The national average for people with high school diplomas is 85 percent. In Reading, that amount is only 63 percent. Nationally, 28 percent of the populace has bachelor’s degrees. That figure drops to 8 percent for Reading’s residents. Yes, I can see how that would impact the influx of new industry. Why put a stake in a plant in an area where there is less likelihood of recruiting a qualified workforce? Oh now don’t take that the wrong way. People here are most definitely trainable. If someone is willing to invest the time and money to do it.

There’s a local shelter that reports first-time homelessness is on the increase here. Of the 23 new entries into their facility in June and July of this year, 18 were homeless for the first time. Another cold, hard fact comes from the food bank. Four years ago, they gave out three and a half million pounds of food. The estimate with nearly three-quarters of this year in is six million pounds. In case you’re wondering the total population has only increased about ten percent during that time period.

I’m terribly sorry but I don’t have any answers, easy or otherwise for this mess we’re in. All I know is something has to change. Lots of things. Yes, I know I’ve picked on the city in the past and I’m sure I will in the future but honestly, it is a very pretty area and deserves a much better future than it currently seems slated to have.

Mr. Boots

Last night I needed to veg. As I’ve said, I don’t have any sort of cable service so channel surfing was not an option. Quinn was restless and crawling on me which eliminated web surfing. That left the option of watching some sort of DVD. I wasn’t up for a movie. And I didn’t want anything that required too much concentration.

I don’t know about you, but I loved Dharma and Greg. The first season. Just my opinion but the second and third seasons weren’t as good. So last night I ended up watching the episode with Penn and Teller as guest stars. Penn was a non-entity. Teller however, portrayed Jane’s cat and was absolutely hysterical. Perfect for last night!

Have you seen it? If not, you really should. It’s one of the cleverest things ever.

I'll Write You a Note

I have a friend at work who occasionally goes to the bank around the corner. Every time she goes, I ask her to bring back free samples. I even offer to write a note, asking them to send back a little extra with her. When she returns, she always tells me that they didn’t have any extra and weren’t offering samples that day.

Today, I strolled over there myself. I was chatting with the head teller and happened to inquire as to whether or not my friend has ever actually asked about getting a sample for me. Can you believe she hasn’t? I know. Neither could I.

I must say that the expression on the teller’s face was priceless as she attempted to determine if I was kidding or not. I guess that’s because that particular branch gets held up several times a year. And yes, it has been robbed by people who do their banking there, without any sort of disguise so it isn’t beyond the realm of possibilities that I was doing the same.

Honestly, I’ve never aspired to be a bank robber. Perhaps in the Old West, before cameras, fingerprinting, and exploding dye packets but not now. Hey, I have a question. When the dye pops why do people drop the bag? They know it’s going to happen, or they should. Why not bring a leak-proof bag and take the money somewhere to launder it instead? I’m just saying…

Linked

This week's peek comes from Linked, my erotic horror. Throughout the book the heroine, Tori Banks has nightmares which turn out to be real as she's psychically linked to a pair of serial killers. The thing about this book, and why I haven't gone back to reread it, is that all the nightmares in here are ones I actually had. Yeah, makes you wonder, doesn't it?

“I’m Detective Breauchard, Barry’s partner.” He extended his hand and noted both her hesitation and the slight tremble when she finally accepted. “Shall we?” He indicated a nearby table.

“Oh. All right.” Tori looked disturbed by his choice.

Guy let the silence stretch beyond the comfort zone. “I understand you believe you have knowledge of a homicide?”

“I think I might.”

“You might? As in you’re not sure?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Maybe. I don’t know.”

Fighting for patience, Guy made the mistake of glancing at Lana. When he refocused on the woman next to him, he knew she’d seen his date’s annoyed gesture.

“Perhaps you could begin by telling me how you got this information that you may or may not have.”

Tori flinched. “I had a nightmare.”

“Pardon me. I don’t think I heard you correctly.”

“I said I had a nightmare. Of that poor woman getting killed.”

Guy snorted. “I see.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

“Of course I do, Ms. Banks,” he sneered. “We employ a full staff of sleeping witnesses. How else would we ever catch the bad guys?”

“This was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.” Tori’s shoulders slumped.

“No, Ms. Banks, what you shouldn’t have done was take advantage of the good woman who befriended you and her family.”

“What?” His words startled her into looking at him.

“What’s wrong? Are you so bored with our little community that you decided to play the psychic and stir things up?”

“I never—”

“Cut the bullshit, princess. This is New Hampshire, not California. Your Beverly Hills drama queen act may do it for you there but here, we have values. We respect honesty, not hyped-up hysterics.”

“Beverly Hills drama queen,” Tori sputtered. “Since that’s where I’m from, that’s what I must be?”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.” Guy watched her features sharpen with anger and saw something in her eyes that made him question his opinion.

“Then that would make you an asshole, Detective Breauchard,” Tori emphasized the French pronunciation of his name. “Since everyone knows the French are all assholes.”

“My distant family is from Quebec, Ms. Banks, but I assure you, I am as American as you are.”

“That may be.” Tori stood and leaned over the table toward him. “But roots count tremendously and Quebec is the next best thing to France. Forgive me for interfering with your evening. I’ll go now and let you get back to your date.”

Guy watched as she mustered her dignity and swept out the door. Anyone watching would see only her grand exit. If Guy hadn’t seen how her hands were shaking and the hurt and sadness in her eyes when she leaned closer to him, he would have believed it too. But he had seen and that made him wonder if her regal behavior as she left wasn’t the true act. If it was then that meant his assumption that she was an attention-seeking lunatic was wrong too.

Nostalgia

When I was a kid, I remember my grandfather going on and on about how he had to suffer through All My Children with his lunch every day. My grandmother was accustomed to watching while she ate and didn’t see any need to alter her routine just because he retired.

These two had very mixed emotions when it came to me. He was the sweetest. She wasn’t. And his being wonderful to me always seemed to annoy her. As did my grandfather and I joking about his enforced watching of All My Children. Over the summer I actually watched now and then too so we could talk about specific plots twists.

When my grandmother passed away, he was so in the habit of watching that he continued, even without her there. By that time, he’d decided that Erica was hot so he didn’t want to miss seeing her. I was 21 by then so grandfather and I would meet up for an occasional evening at his corner bar. It always included some time spent catching up on Erica’s latest antics.

Today was the last episode of All My Children. It was on for 42 years. I haven’t seen an episode in ages but it still makes me a bit sad, knowing that something good from my childhood is now well and truly gone.

See the Kitty

See the kitty. See the kitty being naughty. See the kitty being naughty giving his cute face. See the kitty being naughty giving his cute face because he knows he’s not supposed to claw the carpet. See the kitty being naughty giving the cute face because he knows he’s not suppose to claw the carpet and can tell I’m about to yell. See the kitty being naughty giving the cute face because he knows he’s not supposed to claw the carpet and can tell I’m about to yell to make him quit. See the kitty being naughty giving the cute face because he knows he’s not supposed to claw the carpet and can tell I’m about to yell to make him quit even though the cute face lets him get away with just about everything.

Hey, it’s only carpet. And, don’t tell him I said this, he sure is cute!

Snippets

I was perusing a magazine at lunch today. Yes, I know I’ve been very remiss in sharing things I’ve found lately. Please forgive me. Perhaps this will make up for it.

Want to learn Spanish without textbooks and boring repetitious drills? Check out Zambombazo! It’s a website set up by a pair of language instructors who decided it would be much more fun learning another language through the use of pop culture. I was surfing around in it and it seems pretty cool. I’m sure I’ll go back to play and yes, end up learning things while I’m at it.

Have you heard what the History Channel did? For some reason, they chose to give Larry the Cable Guy his own show. It’s called Only in America. Um, sorry, I have my doubts on this one. Of course I’ve never been a big Larry fan so maybe I’m being unfair. As you know, I don’t have TV so you’ll have to watch this and let me know if I’m missing something worthwhile.

And last, but certainly not least, a small company in County Meath, Ireland is now marketing canned unicorn meat. They boast “magic in every bite” and an “excellent source of sparkles.” Now, hold on. Don’t kill the messenger. And before you go hunting down the cannery folks, this is the ThinkGeek guys idea of a practical joke. But you really can purchase it for the low, low price of $12.99.

So there you have it. The highlights of my lunchtime reading. Stick around to see what I find next!

I'm So Dumb

One more thought on yesterday's post. I realized last night that I missed the perfect opportunity while trying to extract myself from the chat with the old man. I should have given him a number. Oh no, not mine. I'd NEVER do that. My mother's, however...

So This Is What It's Come To...

On Saturday, I could hear my newest characters rattling around in my head. But not clearly. They seem to prefer telling their story in public rather than at home. So I looked out at the parking lot across the street. Empty. It was getting to be lunch time and the bar on my corner has decent food so I packed up my laptop and off we went.

For an hour and a half, they chattered non-stop. Great progress was made. Chapter four was nearly finished when they decided I could take a break and have a slice of pizza. Very decent for bar pizza. Cheap but with tons of cheese!

I’m sure I’ve mentioned that this particular establishment is a sports bar. Thirty-plus large screen TVs most of which, as it turned out, were displaying the Penn State football game. As I was sitting there, munching my pizza, checking emails an old man appeared at my side. Truly, I have nothing against old people. There are some I absolutely adore. This one, however, is not destined to become one of them.

He started out by commenting that I finally took a break from my homework to which I replied that I was writing a book. So far so good. He asked what kind. I told him vampires. That’s it. Nothing else. Not a word about the general nature of most of my books. He offered to let me bite his neck. Um, no, thank you. Then he asked to bite mine. Again, no, thanks. I was well behaved. I didn’t point out that it would be difficult without any teeth. Perhaps they were in his pocket? So I went back to my pizza, hoping to end the conversation.

When he shuffled off to the restroom, I took a good look at him. Shorts, hiked up to his armpits, stained cardigan, black socks, white slip-on shoes. Old man bowed legs, hunched over and the kind of face that was so aged I couldn’t imagine what he once looked like. Nothing wrong with any of that but honestly, not exactly what I find physically appealing.

Oh his return from the restroom, he paused again. First he announced he had season tickets to Penn State and would be taking me to a game. Nope. I’ve made it this long without ever watching a football game. I certainly don’t intend to begin now. Next he wanted to know did I come there often. Yeah, he really did ask that. For the record, then line has never, ever worked with me. His third attempt, though more original, did absolutely nothing to further his cause. He said, and I quote, “I may not be able to cut the mustard anymore but I can still lick the lid.” This was naturally accompanied by much winking. Can you say ew?

Yes, I shooed him away without exchanging numbers. But by then it was too late. I had to leave. There was so much hysterical laughter going on inside my head by that point that I knew my characters were done for the day.

Controlled Desires - Snippet #2

As promised, more Controlled Desires. This is where the similarities between me and the heroine end. My aim is better.

For a week I stewed. I had all sorts of retorts in my mind, should he come into my domain again. No one messed with me in my territory. I’d take care of him next time he was in. Or so I decided without once examining why I was so worked up about it. I’d never got so ridiculously bent out of shape about anything as I had about him simply commenting on my work habits. And a fairly mild comment at that. Then he showed up again and all my put-him-in-his-place plans went right out the window.

My boss was away from the site, due back in an hour or so, and it was way before lunchtime. I was happily singing along with my tunes when I happened to glance up and saw him standing just inside the door.

“He’s not here,” I informed him coolly.

“I know,” he said, steadily approaching me.

“Then why are you?” I asked, frowning.

“Because you need to be taught the value of seeing things through.”

“Oh I do, do I?” I snorted. Who was he to dictate how I did my job? I didn’t care if he and my boss were old buddies. He had no right to step in and reorganize me. Besides, I really did work better when I did several things at once and my boss never had a problem with it. Why should he?

He kept coming. One step after the other. The trailer wasn’t very large but it seemed to take forever for him to reach my desk. Only he didn’t stop on his side of it. No, he circled it. Instinctively, I rolled my chair backward. Shouldn’t have done that because it left him space to stand in front of me. In one swift move he had me yanked up out of my chair, kicking it out of the way and pinning me to the wall. I gasped just as his mouth came down hard on mine.

I’d never been kissed senseless before. By the time he raised his head I couldn’t breathe. I was stunned speechless too, another first for me. My amazement must have shown on my face because he gave me a quirky little lifted eyebrow grin. Before I could collect myself enough to react, he was kissing me again. My hands were above my head, caught by one of his. Damn, they were large! His other had already found its way under my tee shirt. But it was clenched on my side, not on my breast as I expected it to be. As I wanted it to be. I attempted to squirm to get him to touch me. Didn’t work. He had me held fast exactly where he wanted me and I was stuck until he decided to release me. Or move.

I wasn’t having any success, pressing my crotch against him either. God, I needed contact! Only I wasn’t getting it. Anywhere. He had to know I wanted it with how I was struggling. And whimpering. But all he did was kiss me as he kept me firmly in place. On and on he kissed me. Without touching me any more than he needed to in order to hold me still. Then he stopped and stepped away, leaving me panting against the wall, trembling so badly I could barely stand.

“Well, I’ll be going now. I have other things to see to,” he announced blandly.

“Huh? Wait,” I begged.

He paused at the door. “Why? Isn’t that how you do things? A little now, more later?”

Fortunately for him I was still shaking. Otherwise my aim would have been better when I threw my stapler at him. As it was, it bounced harmlessly off the doorjamb just before he chuckled and walked out.

Controlled Desires - Snippet #1

The characters in this book were very interesting to work with. There's a lot of me in her. However, I have no idea where he came from. I sometimes wonder about that, where some of the things I write come from. Stop back tomorrow to see what he does to prove his point.

My boss was tied up out on the site. He said he didn’t mind. He’d wait. So there we were. Me flitting from project to project, doing a little of this, making some progress on a little of that. Him standing stock-still in all his dark, handsome broodiness, watching, scowling a little more each time I switched. Silent. The more he towered over me, the more nervous I became and the more often I jumped tasks.

I guess it got to be too much for him because he finally said, “Stop.”

“What?” I asked, not really understanding his objection.

“How can you work like that? You never get anywhere with anything.”

“Of course I do,” I explained. “I do a little on each thing and then everything’s done at once.”

“But it would be more efficient to do one thing at a time to completion and then move on.”

“Says who? That’s not how I work.”

“Well you should.”

It was my turn to stare. “Of all the nerve!” He was beginning to piss me off with his high-handed attitude. All right so perhaps he wasn’t the one with the attitude. No, that was me. He was still standing there, immobile, watching in silent recrimination as I shifted screens yet again.

“Nerve has nothing to do with it,” he stated mildly. “It’s what I do.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m an efficiency expert. I get paid to observe and cut out the deadwood.”

My mouth opened and closed but nothing came out. Deadwood! Who was he calling deadwood? Not to mention stupid, which was how I interpreted his comment. “I know what an efficiency expert does. But not everyone works the same way you know. Some of us are perfectly capable of multitasking, no problem.”

“Multitasking is all well and good when it’s called for. You’re just wasting time.”

God, I hated his even, reasonable tone. “Just what business is this of yours anyway? I’ve never had any complaints. Everything’s always done on time. What’s your problem?”

Nothing. He didn’t say a word. He didn’t have a chance because that was the second my boss arrived, getting him off the hook. As they were on their way out he looked back over his shoulder and raised an eyebrow. Of course I took it as him mocking me. Damn him!

Mighty Quinn

Today was vet day for poor Quinn. Or perhaps I should say Quinn day for the poor vet’s office.

As you may remember, Quinn is a rescued street cat. He’s very thick furred, velveteen grey and gorgeous. At home, he’s a love. He hangs out with me all the time, snuggling up against me, nudging to be petted, purring constantly. He’s also my official greeter. No one could possibly be coming in to my house for any reason other than to visit Quinn. The only thing is all of this must be on his terms as he hates being picked up or confined in any way.

You can imagine that one tiny quirk makes going in for a check up an, um, interesting experience. Last time I took him, I gave him a mild tranquilizer at home so he’d be nice and mellow for the wonderful people at the vet’s. Hahaha! Didn’t quite work out as planned. His adrenaline kicked in and he went ballistic. Eighteen pounds of claws and teeth, all swiping at once. They wrapped him in a heavy blanket and were wearing thick, leather gloves and he still did some damage in the time it took to give him one shot. This earned him a notation in his chart. “Gets violent.”

So this year the plan was to take him in and let them knock him out after he got there. My part was easy. He’s very curious so all I had to do was fold up a towel and stuff it in the carrier. He went right in after it to investigate and I latched the door. When I dropped him off I asked him not to hurt any of the nice people who were merely ensuring his health and well-being. I suspect getting him out was a challenge but everyone there seemed to be intact when I went back to get him so I guess it wasn’t too terrible for anyone involved.

On a side note, I said hello to the kitty who visited during Hurricane Irene. She’s very, very pregnant but still just as sweet as can be. If anyone is interesting in adopting her or one of her kittens, please contact me.

Sorry

Ucky sinus infection. Very unhappy. Back when I'm functional. Play amongst yourselves til then. Take notes for me...

Invincible

I am the keeper of the light.
The guardian of possibilities
Glowing deep within
I hold a flame
That can’t, won’t go out
A glimmer of hope
Flickering in the darkness
Though dim to the world
It is a beacon
To my chosen family
Reflecting untold strengths
Drawing us together
Until we are one
And once we are
We will be a force
So great
The mere mortals
Will cower in our shadow
Yes, come to me now
Add your spark to mine
And become one of us

Blah, Blah, Blah

I ordered pizza. I don’t want it. Not the pizza that can be delivered. There is pizza I wouldn’t mind having but they don’t deliver. No, I’d need to put my shoes back on and go get it. And then I’d more likely than not lose my parking space.

I should have stopped for salad along the way home. That might have been acceptable. Only it’s all the way across town and on a Friday at 5:00 the traffic isn’t fun. But I may be glad I didn’t because I’m told the salads from the yummy place are shrinking. That’s disappointing.

I’d really like a good sammich. But no one delivers them. Nor does anyone around here make them just now. Unless there’s some place new that no one I know has discovered and told me about yet. Anyone?

I should probably just have had cereal. Can’t ever go wrong with cereal.

Happy weekend all. May your dining choices be less stressful than mine.

Of the Rain

Jagged spikes of blue-tinged platinum
Pierce the sky
As the echo of nature’s drums
Reverberates across the heavens.
The angels weep with joy tonight,
Their tears flooding
The earth below.
Mortals scurry to and fro
Huddled beneath their illusions of safety.
Hiding
Afraid to be caught in the deluge,
Unaware of the magic it contains.
Look around
If you dare
And maybe, just maybe
You will catch a glimpse
Of the mythical creatures
That dance naked in the rain
Drawn out by the raw power of the storm
Absorbing every drop.
Not quite human
Nor animal either
Something in between
Illusive and beautiful
Rare and glorious
Treasures one and all.
A non-believer you say?
Trust me, you must
Indeed they do exist
I know
For I am one of them

Thunk!

In case you’ve ever wondered, that’s the sound a bird makes when it’s raining so hard it’s knocked out of a tree and lands on a metal cellar door. I was sitting at work today, doing the things I do, when that very thing happened. Poor critter. It hopped up and huddled on my window ledge for a good ten minutes. I suspect it was a tad stunned and needed a moment to recoup.

It rained harder and longer today than any time in my recent memory. Figures. Last night, I went upstairs to close up the porch and Beau was sitting in the middle of the floor looking up. He was quivering, obviously excited about something. A second later, he dipped his head, shifted and went back to looking up. So I looked up too.

The damn roof is leaking! He was waiting for the drip to play chicken with it. Funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time or it would have been had his entertainment not been caused by water dropping from the inside of my ceiling. He was so upset with me when I chased him out of the way in order to put a bucket in his place.

Fortunately, it’s only a little leak. I haven’t coated the roof lately so I’m hoping that’s all it’ll take to fix it. But of course it’s supposed to rain, hard, for days so who knows how bad it might get before I can deal with it.

The picture? My grocery store is remodeling. They’ve apparently decided to add a moat.

Not Good

It’s the very beginning of the school year and already things are not going well.

There’s a bus that stops along my way to work. Last year, I had it timed so most days the bus was just pulling out as I was approaching. Sure, every now and then the mom and the bus driver would exchange a few extra words while I waited but on the whole it wasn’t that bad.

Today, I got there and the bus was waiting. Eight minutes later, the bus driver gave up and left without the child. I couldn’t see if the mom came to the door and waived the bus away. If so, why didn’t she do it when the bus first stopped? Sorry, but I think that’s inconsiderate. The bus is there to pick up her child alone. She should either, one, have said child ready and waiting so as not to hold those of us, and the rest of the bus up, or two, be waiting there herself to let the driver know there is no pick up that particular morning.

As you might guess, this was not a good way to start off my day. I don’t like arriving at the very last second for work. I prefer to have a few moments before diving right in. I didn’t today. Yes, I could take a different route to work. Slightly out of my way but not tremendously and I’m sure Howie could adjust since I let him drive most of the time. That, however, is not the point, is it?

Psychpaths

There’s a new study out there that declares one in 25 company bosses are real psychopaths. Hmm. This one doesn’t apply to my current employer. Nope, my present boss is a true sweetheart.

My last one, however… Ha ha ha! Those of you who know my former boss know exactly what I’m thinking. No, I’m not about to name names here. The article says that these psychopaths don’t feel as you do. Yes, I’d have to agree with that one. They also determined that happy childhoods are what keep them from becoming serial killers. Oh yeah, I can very easily see the former boss as that. Yup, sure can.

Okay, perhaps it would be best to change the subject now. It’s a holiday. I’m off today. Yay! My big thrill for the day? Fixing my vacuum cleaner. No more poofs of Quinn fur all over the floor. I know. I have such an exciting life, don’t I?

All Roads Lead to Ripon

I wrote this book years ago. I’m not sure why, but one night this week I clicked it open and read it. There were so many little things in it that I didn’t remember writing. I was amazed.

What I did remember was using a trip I had taken as a kid as the basis for the heroine’s journey. Reading that was kind of fun. It brought back a lot of memories, things I hadn’t thought of in so long. Yeah.

It’s funny how life turns out.

Happy Weekend!

My yard is confused. It’s making strawberries again. Weren’t the fourteen gallons I consumed in the spring enough? I sure hope this doesn’t mean we’re skipping winter. I’ve had more than enough of summer for now. I need time to recover before dealing with more of this.

Do you know what the perfect meal is? A Nutella/fluff sammich on oat nut toast. That’s been my dinner this week and I’m very happy to be having another one tonight. Better still is I think there’s enough left in the jars to have one last one tomorrow. I like it so much I may have to get more of the same next week when it’s real shopping time again.

Any plans for the holiday weekend? At the moment I doubt I’ll be venturing out. In fact, I may not speak the entire time. Sometimes it works out that way. What ever you do, have fun and be safe!