The road trip started around 7 a.m. Within 2 hours of driving, my Mother Noonie gave us breakfast or lunch.
“Who wants an Eggie Sandwich?”
My brother and I perked up with excitement. There’s nothing like Mom’s eggie sandwich, especially on a road trip. There’s something magical about this sandwich.
There’s something beautiful about the cultivation of friendships. Years and years of being someone’s friend might compound into an everlasting bond. But is there a point in a friendship when it becomes more than a simple friendship? When a stronger bond of love rises, however, without a lover’s romance? I think I have reached that point in some of my friendships. When I can no longer refer to a friend as simply ‘a friend,’ instead we are in a ‘Lovesship’.
I don’t know if you believe in spirits, but I seriously do. My grandmother, Sadye Cohen, was quite a grand dame. We didn’t call her Grandma, Safta, Nonna, Lola, Meemaw or Bubbie; she was Sadye, the same name her friends used. She was 4-feet-11-inches tall and was referred to as ‘two feet of thunder’.
At dinner that night, my father asked us what we were going to do to give back to the world. He stated that today was filled with blessings. So, what was our plan to give back? I wasn’t sure. I told him I was going to think about it. A few days passed and I thought about a way to give back. It was called, “Give an egg. Sell an egg.” I heard of kids doing this so I thought I would give it a try. This is how it works…
You are amazing! You are wonderful! You are superb! You are full of greatness, therefore you are “GREATFUL”. Greatful, meaning you are full of absolute greatness. “But that’s not a word Sue.” Maybe greatful is not considered a correct word in the English language, but what’s actually correct anyways? Not a big deal today.
It started 43 years ago, in 1981. I think I was 17 or 18 and I had a little crush on Jimmy Garfinkle’s brother David (brothers who live with type 1 diabetes and are members of JDRF’s Montreal-based founding families). So when Jimmy asked me to do the Bike-a-Thon, one of the first JDRF fundraising events, I obliged. I took a few girlfriends with me, and we were all eager to help and support the type 1 diabetes T1D community.
Article by JDRF Canada
The word schmatta (rag) can also translate to something or someone being worn out. Such as in this example: “After cleaning out the garage for hours, she was feeling like a schmatta.” Another example: “His clothing was so worn and torn, he looked like a schmatta.” But what is a schmatta cake and why is it so good? The best way I can describe a schmatta cake is in its simplicity.
Cleaning out my filing cabinet usually takes me a few days to do. In every file folder there are things I need and things I don’t. But what slows down the process are the trips down many memory lanes.
It all started with a hat. A soft, slightly woolly hat. “Ladies, I’m going to pass this hat around. Please put in anything you want. Maybe $5 or $10 or even $20.” On that Christmas Party night, we collected $125.00. Following that evening, the WHHS Gals donated the funds to The Gazette Christmas Fund. Collectively, we felt wonderful about making a difference.
Truth be told, I don’t follow a recipe very well. Perhaps it’s my need to improvise all the time? Maybe it’s the methodical time involved in carefully following the steps? Maybe I just can’t “FOLD IN THE CHEESE?” Although, this week my son said, “Ma! You made a fantastic, the best ever Mac N’Cheese.” So, perhaps I do know how to “Fold in the Cheese?”
Like many people during these difficult times, I too, am looking for happiness. I’m searching for peace and resolve. Could it be found in a dinner date with friends? Could it be in the act of helping others? Could it simply be found on the back of a truck? Is this truck smiling?
In the last weeks, my love for humanity has been shattered, battered, and scattered. I’ve felt hopeless, lifeless, and joyless. I keep asking myself, what can I do? What is my role? How can I help? How can I rise? I do believe there is a light, if we reach far within ourselves to find it.
Yes, that was me, the David Cassidy singing gal skiing up and down tracks 2 and 6 with a smile on my face. But, I wasn’t alone. I was with so many other skiing enthusiasts, smiling and enjoying the gift of pristine fresh winter snow in February. It doesn’t get better than this. This is pure love!
As a tween, an almost adolescent, I didn’t really understand what sexy was. All I knew was that Elvis Presley made me feel differently. For some reason, I wanted to kiss him and my eyes were glued to his body when he performed. Once I fully understood what sexy was, Elvis was gone, never to return. Left to seek out other sexy avenues I stumbled upon, David Cassidy, John Travolta, Tony Defranco, Davy Jones, and the super cute guy down my street.
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