Last week, I experienced one of those horrible, frustrating, soul-sapping days. We’ve all had them once in a while. They seek to bring our Spirit down.
Because of that kind of day, I decide dinner will be the tried and true – pizza. I drive to our favorite pizza place, owned by some adorable Italians who landed here just a few years ago to begin their dream. Continue reading
I don’t like pot pie. Well, deep inside I do, since my blood is English – way back to my great-great grandparents. So sure, I like pot pie the same way I like rose gardens and floral wallpaper and hot tea with milk.
But I used to never eat pot pie because, to be honest, it’s fattening; all flour and butter in the crust; butter and flour in the gravy; and then a speck of chicken in there. With maybe a pea or two. Continue reading
roughwighting 