I’ve been staring at the screen on my computer, wondering what on earth I’m going to write about tonight. The urge to just blow it off is strong. After all, I haven’t written anything at all in quite some time, now suddenly I’m asking my brain to come up with something every single day? What was I thinking? I sternly tell myself to get it together and come up with something. I am going to fulfill this commitment.

So here I sit in my favorite red chair. My laptop is resting on one of the arms. I have to balance it just so and make sure my arm doesn’t hang too far off the bumpy-textured upholstery. If I don’t pay attention, soon my arm will go to sleep and I will have sharp pins and needles to painfully deal with.


I take a sip of my sweet chai tea, breathing in it’s spicy warmth as I look around the room for something…anything to write about. I lean my head back, resting it against the furry heat of my little dog Charlie. He is sleeping peacefully in his “safe spot” across the back of my neck. Maggie, who is curled on my lap sighs and nestles in closer. I reach over and pet my little grand puppy who is nestled at my side. He seems to have finally accepted the idea of staying with us while Mimi is on vacation.

The steady click clunk click of the jeans twirling themselves around and around in the dryer is slowly soothing me to sleep. My head starts to nod and I can barely keep my eyes open. It has been a long day.

Still, here I sit, wondering what on earth I’m going to write about tonight.


Thank you for reading A Slice of My Life. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked this post, why not consider “liking” my Facebook Page, subscribing by mail (at the upper right) or signing up in a reader. I’d be thrilled and you would never miss a post. Oh…and I love comments!

Posted in Writing | 5 Comments

It’s Okay, I’m a Teacher

I was using the restroom at the gym when I heard someone enter the next stall. A moment later I heard two young voices telling her that they their hands were dirty and they needed to use hand sanitizer. I smiled to myself as I listened to this young mother patiently explain to her children that while hand sanitizer would kill the germs, they really needed to use soap and water to make their hands clean.

The first child had just finished washing her hands as I came up to the sink. The second, an adorable red-faced little girl stood on the white plastic stood in front of the sink and told me that she had to wash her face because she had been running and was too hot.

“You do?” I asked.

“Yes. I need to cool off.” She said then turned around to the sink and started twisting the handle back and forth trying to turn it on.

“Push it down” I told her. “Use all of your muscles because it’s a little tricky sometimes.” I watched her struggle for a moment before reaching around her to push the water on. She happily started splashing the cool water on her face and making loud “Ahhh’s” and other noises of relief. The little girl and I chatted a bit more as her mother came out of the stall and urged her daughter to hurry so that I could wash my hands too.

The young mother started to get visibly frustrated as her offspring kept up the endless chatter to me as she struggled to get paper towels out of the holder. Despite the fact that I told the mom that it was fine, I wasn’t in a hurry, she was still exasperated and perhaps a bit embarrassed.

“It’s really okay” I told her, “I teach little ones.”

“Ohhh” she said letting out a huge sigh of relief, “You’re a teacher, so you are used to this.”

I just smiled and nodded at that flustered mama.  The little girl’s eyes widened when she heard that I teach. 

“Do you teach gymnastics?” She asked. “Because that is my favorite class.  We used to take ballet but we had to stop because…”

I just laughed and let her tell me all the things she needed to say. It’s a good thing that not only am I used to all the things little ones come up with, I quite enjoy it. 

Posted in Humor, It's all about me! | 5 Comments

The Last Meal

This morning I dropped my youngest daughter Mimi and her fiancé Jaime off at the airport before the sun had come up. They were headed to Florida to see Jaimie’s grandmother and then go on a cruise to the Bahamas with her. I must have been thinking about that, or perhaps just zoning out from a lack of sleep and caffeine, when I realized I had taken the exit into the huge parking lot instead of back to the freeway. As I wandered through the nearly empty parking structure maze searching for the exit, I thought about the mishaps I had made in the last day or so and had to laugh at myself.

I had spent the day before with my daughter and her love. The three of us went shopping, had lunch and mostly just hung out together. For dinner, I had told Mimi that I would make her anything she wanted for her last meal at home. After a bit of deliberation, she settled on the One-Pot Spaghetti that I had found on Pinterest a few years ago. Spaghetti is one of her very favorite dishes in the world. Apparently the red sauce spaghetti is traditionally topped with is one of Jaime’s least favorites. So the one-pot recipe, with it’s creamy, light tomato sauce was a compromise that everyone would enjoy.

As I started pulling the ingredients out of my pantry, Mimi came into the kitchen. Handing me a printed out recipe, she informed me that it hadn’t tasted quite right the last couple times that I had made it and she wanted me to actually follow the recipe. I have to confess that I’m not really great at following recipes…I like to add a little of this and a little of that, and maybe change things around a bit. Usually, it’s an improvement. Apparently not always.

I agreed to follow the recipe exactly-ish. The major exception being that I planned to cut it in half as I didn’t want to have leftovers in the house after they had left the state. So, I got to work creating my baby girl’s favorite meal. Once I had all the veggies chopped and ready to go into the pot I reached for the linguini noodles that the recipe called for. Only it turned out that I only had angel hair pasta. Whole-wheat angel hair pasta.

I decided to start cooking the veggies first as I knew the thinner pasta would take less time than the linguini noodles the recipe called for. I just hoped the whole-wheat wouldn’t have any adverse effect aside of making it healthier.

It wasn’t long before a heavenly scent filled the air. A small taste confirmed that the broth tasted just as good as it smelled. It was time to add the pasta. Without really thinking it through, I decided that the noodles were so tiny I would need more of them, so I dumped the whole box in. That was a huge mistake.


I tried my best to correct the disaster of a meal, but it had turned into a thick, gooey, inedible mess.

Instead of lovely home-cooked spaghetti dinner I had intended on feeding Mimi and Jaime, I ended up taking them out to Red Robin for dinner.  One can only hope they forget how he disastrous the last meal was by the time they get home (Although, knowing my family, this is going to be one of those things brought up time and time again.) and remember the fun, yet crazy we had getting it. 

Posted in Random stuff | 4 Comments

The Dreaded Temecula

One of my girlfriends called me at the end of last week to chat about something or other. After a moment or two of conversation, she seemed rather alarmed at my croaky voice and persistent cough.

“Are you all right?” she asked.

“No,” I told her. “I’m pretty sure I have a severe case of Temecula.”

“Temecula?” My friend asked. “I haven’t heard of that. Although, I’m pretty sure there is a coastal town in California with that name.”

Hmmm…My friend may be on to something. The truth is, while I felt deathly ill, there isn’t really a dreaded disease by that name. Well, at least not that I am aware of. Most people call what I have, the Common Cold. What a boring name for something so completely miserable.


It all started just a little less than thirty years ago. Shaun and I would drive up from San Diego up to Los Angeles to see my aunt and grandparents every month or two. Keep in mind that this was practically back in the cave days. There were no cell phones, no DVD players, no Spotify or iTunes or any of the wonderful stuff we have today to keep ourselves entertained. All we had was a car stereo with sketchy reception in the areas that hadn’t been developed between those two major cities yet. Oh yes, and each other to talk to.

Shaun and I have a love of word games. We often will say something that sets us off on a rhyming contest to see who can come up with the best rhyme in a sentence. Or maybe we will see a random word or name and instantly launch into some elaborate, yet highly plausible story up about that word. It was considered a win if we could actually convince the other to believe it. Of course, we had gotten rather skeptical of each other and were rarely convinced.

One of the words that we played with was the name of a town we saw on the freeway signs. “Temecula, next 3 exits.” Play with that in your mouth. Tem-ehhh-cuuuu-la. Draw the c out in the back of your throat. Do you see how it could sound like a horrible disease? We did. Somehow, this one word, and the silly meaning that we invented behind, it has stuck with us…and our children.

So whenever we have a miserable, yet harmless illness, we claim that we have the Dreaded Temecula. We are allowed to moan and groan and fully embrace our horrible fate until everyone else in the family is sick of us. Somehow, that makes it a little less miserable.

Don’t worry, it looks as though I will make a full recovery. I just hope I didn’t make anyone else sick…I don’t want to listen to their whining about having Temecula.

Posted in Random stuff | 13 Comments

It’s Time

Shortly after I posted my story about last year’s New Year’s Resolution, you know, the one about how it took me an entire year to make a simple apron, Shaun started asking me what my resolution for this year was going to be. He wanted to know, and may have been strongly hinting that it was to start blogging again. I just smiled and told him I hadn’t decided yet.

The fact was, that I had already decided that I was going to write every single day this year. It didn’t have to be a blog post. It could be something in my journal, a letter, a list…anything as long as I got myself in the habit of writing again. Sadly, my secret writing streak only lasted about two weeks. Apparently, I just wasn’t ready to start writing again.

Yet, I wanted to write. My imagination would take a simple little happening, a Slice of My Life, if you will, and started spinning it into a little story. My fingers would start to twitch and I would reach for the composition notebook that I haul around with my at all times. Somehow…the words would never quite make it onto the paper. The more times that happened, the harder it got to be. Writing was no longer flowing out of me.

I started to notice that every time I made the firm decision to set aside my keyboard, pen and paper, someone would come along and ask when I was going to blog again. Or even mention that they missed my stories. It amazes me how many people enjoyed and miss my writing. People that I had no idea were even aware that I had a blog. So, for them, I would buck up and decide to write something. Still, the words always felt choppy and just stayed in my notebook.

Although my poor blog is sadly dusty and neglected, I still enjoy scrolling my blog feed page. I enjoy peeking in on the world of my blog friends that are still posting, as well as several other interesting blogs I have found along the way. This evening it dawned on me that the month-long Slice Of Life challenge started today.


Something in me surged up, “It’s time!” my soul sang out.

I have a lot of stories that I have been wanting to write. Yet…just didn’t. This month I’m going to write them down. I won’t worry if the words seem wrong or don’t flow the way I want them to. I’m just going to write them down. Only this time, my main audience will be myself. This month, I’m writing for me.

And you, Dear Reader are more than welcome to tag along to see what I come up with.

Posted in Random stuff | 7 Comments

Waiting Until the Last Minute

New Year’s Eve should have found me leisurely creating a new and tantalizing appetizer and getting ready for a party I was excited to attend. Instead I found myself hastily throwing together a tried and true version of stuffed mushrooms and running a brush through my hair in-between alternating bouts of sitting at my sewing machine, and trying not to burn myself at the ironing board.

This was all because of a decision I had made a few months ago. Twelve months ago if we are going to get precise. You see, I had been thinking about New Year’s Resolutions. I wanted to come up with something that I would actually follow through on. I have journals and scraps of paper going back to the time when I first became aware of resolutions. Fourteen year old Susan had the same resolutions that forty year old Susan had. We (along with the rest of the world) resolved to get organized, to go running every morning, lose weight…you know, every cliché that’s out there.

My sweet husband Shaun argued that it was silly to make resolutions. New Year’s was just another day of the year, goals could be set at any time. I just looked at him and shook my head. He simply didn’t understand the power of traditions. So I thought and played with different original, yet useful ideas I could make as resolutions. I finally came up with an idea while we were on a short getaway. I was going to make an apron.make an apron.


I have no idea why I have wanted to make an apron. I have aprons…lots of aprons…that I rarely wear. Yet still, I needed to make one. I thought about my apron all year long. I gazed at every apron I saw, I pinned them and I drooled over them. Heck, I even bought a couple. Yet…I didn’t do anything about making one. At least not until I had only hours to make one on December 31st.

I quickly decided that I would throw one together from one of Shaun’s old button down shirts like I had seen on Pintrest. A few snips here and even fewer hems there and I would have fulfilled my goal. I stood, poised with my scissors, and realized I couldn’t, in good conscience take the easy way out. My apron needed to have a skirt, bib, long ties…and a chicken.

A chicken? I asked myself why on earth I thought I needed a chicken on it.  My over-active imagination simply specified that the chicken had to be made into a pocket.


I pieced together most of bones of the apron before my ride for the party picked me up. I’d never made an apron before, and didn’t have a pattern so I was crossing my fingers that my ideas would work. 

The next morning, after I had recovered from my festivities afternoon, I set to work creating a Chicken Pocket.  I dredged from the corners of my mind everything I had ever read about applique, found a coloring page of a chicken I liked, and gathered up some colorful fabric. I definitely need more practice as it’s far from perfect. However, after a bit of trial and error, I came up with a chicken that simply makes me beam for all of it’s colorful silliness.


It only took me a year, but I managed to complete my 2014 New Year’’

Posted in Crafty, It's all about me!, Traditions | Tagged , , , | 2 Comments

Thanks For The Memories

I was late calling my parents for Thanksgiving. The day had has been a non-stop whirlwind of activity and had just gotten away from me. So I called them on Friday hoping that they weren’t upset that I was behind in calling them. They weren’t. Their Thanksgiving had been a busy one as well. They are currently on the east coast and had celebrated with my brother and his wife’s family.

I talked with my dad for a bit before he ran out of things to say and handed me over to my mother. Mom and I chatted about this and that before the holiday was even mentioned. Then Mom wanted to know all the details. Who did we spend the holiday with, which house was it at, and what my favorite part of the day was. Then she wanted to know what we ate.

“Did you have Glorified Rice?” she asked.

“No” I answered. “I don’t think there is anyone that really likes it. Besides, I can never get the rice to stay soft.” Glorified Rice was the one dessert that my grandmother absolutely had to make for family gatherings. It was a strange combination including white rice, heavy cream, marshmallows, pineapple chunks and maraschino cherries. As a child, it was my absolute favorite. I remember eagerly helping Grandma slice the cherries in half and being allowed to use her ancient hand-held mixer to whip the cream until my arm ached. After Grandma died, we tried to recreate the heavenly treat using her recipe card from her trusty recipe box. It was never the same. The flavors were there, but the rice always turned into little pebbles no matter how long we cooked it or what we tried.

“Well, how about 7-Up Jello Salad? Did you make that?” Mom asked.

“Yes, of course we made that. It’s Mimi’s very favorite.” I answered. My youngest daughter, Mimi, had come over after work and then again first thing in the morning so she could help make her favorites. One of which is 7-Up Jello Salad. This is another odd traditional dish in our family. I always think of my aunt who found the recipe originally. Of course I have no idea where she found it, possibly a magazine, a church cookbook or given to her by a friend. Who know? Regardless, the combination of 7- Up, lemon Jello, pineapple and cream cheese is always at our holiday table.

“I bet you had Cherries in the Snow, didn’t you?” Mom sighed. All I know about the origins of this layered concoction of angel food cake, cream cheese and cherry pie filling, is that my dad used to give out recipe cards when he was a realtor, and this was one of them. In fact, I still have a “Hometown Realty presents” recipe card with Dad’s name on it. For some reason, it always make me grin.

I’ve always felt that Thanksgiving was the one holiday dedicated to our friends and family. We are supposed to think about all the things in our life that we should be thankful for. What I hadn’t quite grasped was that the warm feelings associated with this special meal wasn’t because I was thinking about how grateful I was. Nor was it because the food was so amazing. The most remarkable thing about this meal was the memories and the love behind each and every dish sitting on our table.

I thought of all the dishes we made and the stories behind them. I smiled at the thought of my dear friend Susan teaching me how to make the Cranberry Orange Relish when our kids were tiny, Jeanne’s famous pies, the Spiced Cranberry Sauce that Sue introduced me to just last year, the Green Bean Casserole my friend Kathy always included, the stuffing Mom taught me how to make, and the turkey (cooked in a bag) that Grandpa got out his electric knife to carve each year. So many people have made their indelible mark on what I always thought was merely a traditional meal. I truly am thankful to have had all those people in my life.


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Beautiful October

Hello October. I’m so glad you are here.  It seems as though you have only just arrived, but in truth, you are nearly gone.  As they say, time flies when you are having fun.  I’ve been enjoying you so much. 


There’s something about the transitioning seasons that appeals to my heart.  As much as I love the summer, it’s time for something new.  Autumn brings a welcome nip to the air. There is just enough to cool the air and make it crisp, but not yet cold. The leaves are just starting to change colors and fall to the ground.  I’d say that they were wonderfully crunchy to stomp through, but the reality in the Pacific Northwest, is that they usually just create a colorful, yet soggy mosaic on the ground.


To my delight, pumpkins have sprung up everywhere. You see them outside grocery stores, decorating businesses, on porches and even on my dining room table. As much as we like to decorate with pumpkins, we love eat them even more! The heady scent of cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg fills the air as we nibble on pumpkin muffins, soups, scones, oatmeal, and let’s not forget the infamous Pumpkin Spice Latte. 


Seemingly overnight everyone has dug out their scarves, fuzzy sweaters and boots.  Dressing in layers is a must, as the weather has become even more unpredictable then usual.  Yesterday started out overcast and chilly. By noon it was sunny and warm. The blue sky contrasted so beautifully with the yellows, browns and russets of the turning leaves.  It was simply breath taking.  Today brings glimpses of winter with it’s gloomy grey skies and heavy rain showers.  Despite what the weather man will tell us, each day is a secret surprise, ready to unveil itself in it’s own time.  

It’s quite possible that after a few more weeks of this, that I will long for those long lazy days of summer. Yet, for right now, I’m more than content to curl up in my favorite chair with a cozy blanket, a good book and my pups and just enjoy this glorious fall. I hope you are enjoying it as well.

octobers           Image stolen from Facebook. Original source unknown.

Posted in Weather | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

The End of a Chapter

Yesterday morning Shaun loaded up the car while I ran around the house turning off lights, jotting a quick note to the house-sitter and hugging the hounds goodbye.  Within moments we were joining the masses headed across the pass for Memorial Weekend.  A quick glance at our fellow travelers, those towing boats and campers, or loaded with kayaks and bikes were off for a long weekend of fun.   We intended to have fun, but of a different sort.  You see, this weekend, after four very short years, our girl will be graduating.

I was getting sad thinking to myself that we would never head over to KT’s college again, when Shaun decided to play, “Reminisce.” (He actually likes to play this quite a bit) He began regaling me with all the anecdotes I’ve heard a zillion times before. His voice was growing horse by the time he got to seeing “Toy Story 3” a few weeks before KT headed off for school. It just so happens that Andy, the main character is the same age as our girl. In the last “Toy Story,” Andy headed off to college. I’m sure many people were confused as to why our entire family was sobbing as we headed out of the theater.

Then the day came that we had to actually leave our KT outside of her dorm.


It was almost more than we could bear.  Yet we were happy to see the smile she gave us as Shaun asked her to pose for this one last shot. 

When I look as this photo now, I see a very young girl, just starting a new section of her life.  Her fist is clenched tight as though holding in all of her thoughts and anxious feelings.  I look at my confident girl of today and can only wonder what the next chapter will hold for her.  This is so exiting. 

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Sweet Basil Dreams

As I peeled apart the clear hard-plastic container, I got my first whiff. A small trickle of nearly forgotten memories started to slowly twirl around in the farthest reaches of my mind. The scent intensified as I pulled the crumpled leaves out of their packaging. I plopped them down on the cheap Ikea cutting board, and admired their greenness against the red. Then I peered out my kitchen window. There, on the railing of my deck, sat a squat brown pot with a shriveled branch defiantly standing up.

I know I should have composted the lifeless plant back in the fall and tucked the planter away for the winter. Yet, somehow, I couldn’t bring myself to do that. In a strange way, I actually liked looking at the dead branch. It reminded that the seemingly endless gray Seattle winter would someday fade away. It gave me hope that our glorious summer would soon return.


I turned back to my task. Grasping the knife tightly, I sliced the sharply honed steel across the store-bought herb. The cut leaves immediately released the most heavenly aroma. As I inhaled deeply, I was instantly catapulted to the middle of summer. I was outside playing fetch with my dogs as the pungent scent drifted from the deck to where we romped below on the lawn. I was dining outside with friends enjoying the sunshine, good conversation and laughter. Not only could I smell the light fragrance wafting over us, I delighted in the sweet peppery taste it added to our meal. I was sitting in a comfortable Adirondack chair, sipping wine and giggling with a friend all while breathing in that heady perfume.

Smiling at the awakened memories, I scraped the chopped leaves into the waiting saucepan. I laughed at myself for having such uncharitable thoughts toward purchased produce. No, they weren’t the lush, hand harvested leaves that I had spoiled myself with all summer long. They may actually have been even better. At the end of a long winter’s grip, they brought the dreams of summer back to me.

Yeah Write

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