I’m sitting on my front porch, rocking in the chair, listening to the birds chirp as I breathe in the moist morning air at 6 a.m. The sun is out, it’s already 74 degrees, and the humidity glistens on the grateful flowers. Continue reading
Thursday night is pizza night. I begin to salivate when I call ahead and order our margherita pizza. With roasted red peppers. And spinach.
As my guy and I prepare to pick up the almost-ready pizza pie, his voice hitches up a notch as he admits, “I can’t find my wallet.” Continue reading