Gravy is rich and thick. Good gravy, anyway.
Back in the beginning of our holidays together, my guy cooked the entire turkey meal, including stuffing and gravy. When our kids were young, they observed him reach in the turkey cavity and bring out the giblets, which he cut up after boiling them in a pot of water. Then, in a pan of melting butter, he sautéed the giblets with onions and celery and slowly, slowly added the juices from the roasted turkey. Continue reading
“Time will tell.”
“There is a crack in everything, that’s how the light gets in.”
“There’s always light at the end of the tunnel.”
“Time you enjoy wasting is not wasted time.”
“Your time is up.”
What, exactly, will time tell? Will it tell me that my days are numbered? Personally, I’d like to think that my days are worded. My days are stories, one-by-one as a child, then a dozen, then hundreds as the years roll on.
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Evelyn hadn’t seen Steve in over 25 years. They’d dated in high school. He was the cool jock; you know the type. Mussed up hair, tight grungy jeans, a permanent smirk on his handsome face. Evelyn was the goody-good cheerleader, top grades, anxious about getting into the “right” school. Continue reading
Star bright star light set my broom aside
Let me walk upon the clouds, nothing under me
I need no lift, I need not ask for a flying ride
When creativity is my guide, I am true and free. Continue reading
“‘Be Bop a Lula,’” he says.
“What?”
“That’s her name, ‘Be Bop a Lula.’”
Jill inwardly rolls her eyes. Jason has been softly pushing her for more during the last year. More time together, more intimacy, more thoughts of moving in together. She’s a ‘less is more’ kind of woman. At least, that’s what she’s become.
“Why is that the plant’s name?” Jill asks, pointing to the hanging plant in his hand. Continue reading
roughwighting 