Saturday poem: I wish you enough…


I wish you enough

I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright no matter how grey the day may appear.

I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.

I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.

I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.

I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.

I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.

I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final good-bye.

(The copyright for this poem belongs to the author: Bob Perkins)

Ps. Don’t forget to visit In the kitchen for my weekly recipe posting.

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‘ Wish to eat rabbit someday.

The Garum Factory

Rabbit braised with mustard-0319

In the spirit of estival amnesty, we chose not to publish an Easter post about rabbit, but now that our kitchen has been picked clean of of brightly colored eggs, it’s back to the cutting drawing board.  Herewith, Mustard-Braised Rabbit with Leeks, Peas and Radishes.  In other words, rabbit for grown-ups.

My first dining experience with things that go hippity-hop was in the French-speaking part of Switzerland, a double whammy; first for the rabbit, and second, for the chasseur or hunter  sauce (tomato, chanterelles, cream).  Europeans love to serve rabbit sautéed, braised (my favorite)  and roasted (a bit tricky; some parts cook faster than others).  In France, Italy and Germany rabbit is considered just another choice among a range of staple meat.   But in the US, where My Little Bunny, Goodnight Moon and Peter Rabbit impinge on the culinary imagination, we have a more ambiguous relationship with rabbit.   Common when…

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A Little Improv Can Go a Long Way with Dementia

I agree to agree and say yes. it doesn’t help to argue to someone who is in the stage of forgetfulness. Thanks.

Long Distance Daughter

improv-sign-crop2 Credit: Tom Magliery

Most days, dad sleeps a lot. But today, he’s wide awake. He’s on the phone, yelling at me. He’s so angry, but there’s sadness in his voice, too. “I don’t have any money, I don’t have a car. I don’t even have any shoes,” he tells me. “And I’ve got to go down and see mom and dad.”

Now, my dad is 92 and his parents have been gone for decades. He has money in bank accounts that he doesn’t remember how to access, and he has a car he’s no longer able to drive. These days, his shoes mostly stay in the closet. He wears his slippers when he has the energy to walk down to the dining room to eat with his friends Leo and John, or when he gets the urge to bust out of the skilled nursing wing where he lives. He heads…

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Bracing Up for Tomorow

Hello world!

This is my first blog. This is still under construction and hopefully i can improve the site and look better the next time you visit.

I created this blog hoping someday this could be a place where one can find some resources that could be helpful in any way.

I hope to see you again soon and thank you for visiting my site.