Last night as The Author was preparing dinner, he said, “I don’t actually enjoy cooking anymore.”
I know how he feels.
Around our house, dinner can be a contentious time. The Author and I prefer a more continental dining time, and the kids prefer – well, I don’t actually know what they prefer half the time. When we try to get dinner on the table at a reasonable hour (that would be 7:30 for us), they complain that they don’t want to eat that early. When we lag behind and get dinner on the table late (sometimes as late as 9:00), they complain about the food.
It seems we are raising a household of complainers. Continue reading
Saying Yes is often uncomfortable. But I’ve learned that things that intimidate me often end up being my greatest pleasure. I’ve found how much more in life there is to enjoy if I open myself up to a little bit of unease and discomfort. (Hey, I didn’t like my first taste of gin, but like a good trouper, I kept at it …)
Right now I’m sitting next to a vase of the most fragrant, beautiful Old English roses. I love the smell, I love the look, I love the romance of roses. Roses make me feel elegant just looking at them.
Even so, because of the roses, my nose is sniffling and my eyes are itching. But roses are something I always want to say yes to. So I have to say yes to hay fever as well.
I’ve heard that, when you have hay fever, you can rid yourself of it homoeopathically by eating a teaspoon of local honey every day for a year, kind of like a vaccine. So I’m hoping that pickling rose petals and having them throughout the winter will do something similar for me. Continue reading