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I'm a Pizza

I've been missing on my new blog. The everyday posting thing hasn't worked out for me. But on the other hand, I have been working on a new novel. So it's coffee with Nigel the character in my story that takes flight. I also visit Facebook with my coffee. A stalker of other lives. Is there inspiration to be found? A favorite shop posting a photo of an antique I can't live without. If so, I watch the clock until 10 am when most shops open and make a quick call. "How much? Yes. Perfect. Here is my charge card. I'll be in later today to pick it up." Lately, I wake up in the morning, fear at my heart, as I ask myself a simple question. "Did I buy anything online last night?" Like a drunk on a binge, I am out of control at 2 am, up on Etsy, clicking the 'put in your cart' button. I have a thing for jewelry with old tintypes of turn of the century people. "Dead People" I call the creations with photos dangling from chains of pea...
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Ants In Your Pants Better Than Ants On Your Doughnut

Read With Caution - You May Never Eat Doughnuts Again (And yes, this is my second random thought today. But it had to be shared in the moment!)     My cup of instant Folgers's coffee, complete with Hazelnut creamer, and, an extra special treat, artificial sweetener, (do I love my poison, or what?) stared at me from my desk as I brought in my morning e-mails. Hungry, but too lazy to whip up bacon and a bagel, I remembered the box of doughnuts I purchased yesterday at Kroger. Nice, plump, chewy cake doughnuts. 4 to a box. $1 a box. I used restraint and only bought one box.   Lovingly looking at them late last night, I held off eating one. I knew once I ate one, the other three would follow. What a tasty little breakfast this will be , I thought as I swatted a sugar ant that crawled in my white porcelain sink. Knowing the ants were on a slow move back into my kitchen, I took the sealed box of doughnuts and safely put the box on top of the jar (also sealed) t...
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Christmas Blues

  Lots of good things happening in my life, yet my heart is heavy. A sadness washes over me that I try to explain. To myself, mostly. Then I think, maybe it's that time of year, the holidays approaching. Or maybe my new blood pressure medicine is pulling me down. Then there is my hip that still gives me trouble after surgery a year and a half ago. So many excuses. Real or imagined? I am never sure what I think I am missing or what is causing my blues. I want that spark of joy, of hope, to rekindle. I want to set the world on fire, not the entire world, just my little space in it. In an hour, when I start my day and head out, I will feel the lightness of life around me filling me with hope. But, sitting at home, surrounded with my dogs that are the happiness gurus, I still feel that void.   My beautiful house needs more life in it, I tell myself. A huge dining room with eleven foot ceilings and a six foot farm table, await dinner guests I never invite. Friends would com...
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