Good Morning, Everyone.
I want to start off by thanking Natalie the Explorer for taking up the mantle in keeping the Weekend Coffee Share up and running. Check out her blog that features discoveries of her home in and around Ontario, Canada and abroad, as well as her inspiring fitness adventures.
If we were having coffee, I would announce that I am hailing from Hilton Head Island’s shores. Once again, my husband and I rented a condo for a few months to avoid the Northeast winter and, more importantly, spend quality time with the grandkids. It is a cozy apartment that is a short stroll away from an incredible park for playground and bike ride adventures, stores, and restaurants (featuring outdoor dining and take out). The ocean is a block away. This week, I found my rhythm by getting some writing in, picking up and playing with my granddaughter from school, and prepping dinners during the week. I’m also back to snapping sunrise pictures over the ocean and walking on the beach in the morning. The sand is so firm. I finally ventured on a substantial morning bike ride (I brought my own bicycle from home). Exhilarating!
The big advantage of being close to the kids is that I get to do those necessary Nonny things, like host a sleepover. My grandaughter, Lily, is a little anxious sleeping over anyone’s house without a parent, so we improvised last night and had a “No Boys Allowed” sleepover with her mommy and myself. Her daddy and baby brother had their own sleepover antics at their house.
Our night had the required elements: French braiding hair, watching a movie (Mulan), eating popcorn. Surprisingly, Lily woke early with me and walked to the beach to see the sunrise. The clouds were heavy and gray so it wasn’t much of a a color spectacle. “Next time,” assured Lily. We had to get back to cook the traditional Junk Food Pancakes, complete with sprinkles and M&Ms (breakfast of sugar-high champions). Junk Food Pancakes was my dad’s specialty when his grandkids slept over.
If we were having coffee, I would admit that I really need to knuckle down and get Book 2 written. This week, I found myself falling into those research rabbit holes, which is part of the fun in writing historical fiction but significantly slows the process. I think I have a working title: Sluggers and Singers. What do you think? I also joined a local writers group, Island Writers Network, via Zoom, for writer-ly camaraderie. It looks like a very active and prolific group!
If we were having coffee together, I would report that my mom made it safe and sound to her Florida condo with her cat, Paris. Although lonely without my dad, my brother’s family and sister are nearby her and several of my mom’s cousins. It is a little odd to me that I haven’t seen Mom in over a week. I’ll be able to visit soon. For a while now, my sisters and brother, daughters, and nieces and nephews greet each other in the morning via text messaging with Mom. It’s a busy Good Morning thread.
If we were having coffee together, I would recognize that the country is in a scary place. What an abominable crisis! I pray that we can find a means to heal wounds fast.
If we were having coffee together, I would close by hoping that all of my peeps out there are keeping safe (you know how to do it). Patience and kindness are in order.
Thank you, again, to Natalie the Explorer.
Have a good week, Everyone. Make it Funtastic!
Take a picture of you with Daily Bread and/or Becoming America’s Food Stories, and I’ll send you Reader’s Swag and add you to the Becoming America’s Stories Readers slideshow, coming soon! Kid pics are welcomed with parent or guardian permission. Don’t forget to leave a rating and quick comment on Amazon and/or Goodreads.
Daily Bread is set in the Lower East Side of Manhattan, 1911. The story follows nine-year-old Lily, an American-born child of Sicilian immigrants, who wants to prove she is not a little kid. To be a big kid in the crowded tenement neighborhoods, she must tackle bigotry, bullies, disasters, dotty bakers, and learn to cross the street by herself.
Hope you are hungry. Becoming America’s Food Stories recalls the tales that have been told around my family’s dinner table. The histories explain the motivations over bowls of macaroni, antics play out while slurping soup, and laughter echoes throughout the dining room. Pull up a seat. There’s always room.
“If you don’t cook with love, you have to get out of the kitchen.” Florence Messina