Burnin’ Up the Kitchen – Spotted Dog

Growing up Irish-American, I thought Irish soda bread had raisins in it. That was after all the kind my Irish-American great grandmother Sarah Carter, whom I never met, reportedly baked. In reality, what I grew up thinking was soda bread was its distant cousin Spotted Dog.

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An Open Letter to my Friends on and off Facebook

An Open Letter to my Friends on and off Facebook,


Pantsuit Rising used with permission of artist Kathleen M. Newman

It has been over two months since America displayed just how broken our electoral college system is as the world watched in horror and disbelief.  As I write this hours before Inauguration Day, many Americans, like myself, are still in shock that the orange toddler and Mike Pray the Gay Away Pence won the requisite number of electors to be elected by the Electoral College to the two highest offices in our nation.

During the weeks since November, I have been told to just get over it and informed that I post too much political related material to Facebook.  Continue reading

#WeekendCoffeeShare – November 5, 2016

coffee share

If you and I were having coffee right now … I would admit that 2016 has been a year largely spent fighting disorganization, writer’s block and various other obstacles strewn in front of my blogging and writing desk.

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#WeekendCoffeeShare – October 16, 2016

coffee share

If you and I were having coffee right now … I would acknowledge that it appears at least so far in 2016 my weekend coffee share posts have settled into a when the spirit moves me kind of schedule that just so happens to occur about quarterly.

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If you and I were able to have one last cup of coffee …

from the sticks to the bricks and back again

ID-100165664 Image courtesy of artzenter at FreeDigitalPhotos.net.

If, today, you and I were able to sit at your kitchen table and talk over a cup of coffee just one last time, I would …

… tell you to pour some Sambuca (the good kind, not the generic anisette you always settled for) in our cups. Today is, after all, your eightieth birthday.

… bake you a batch of sesame cookies; the kind I cursed Stella D’Oro for not making anymore the year you were dying and kept asking for your favorite cookies.

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Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Virginia Woolf

I have always prided myself for ability to write wherever I find myself – a bustling coffee shop, the middle of a crowded train station, or a tranquil hideaway.

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Writer’s Quote Wednesday – Jules Renard

The quote by Jules Renard makes me pause.  The quiet reflective side of me connects to this quote and thinks of me as the young, almost painfully shy little girl finding her place in a large and loud extended Italian-American family.

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