I’ve been trying to consume about 25 grams of protein per meal and it’s hard, especially at breakfast. I don’t know why I never thought of this, but I tried using it as an addition to coffee and quick breads and viola! The protein requirement is easily met.
About the only thing I have from my Mother’s Daddy is his old suitcase…you remember the ones they used in early 20th century. I had stashed it on top of my kitchen cabinet where it looked very cute. With 12 foot ceilings and a century old home, it looked right at home.
Chalk this one up to a gift from God. This morning Brenda and I were swapping some pass-along plants – I gave her a spade of my maroon and white iris and she gave me some ginger.
While we were wandering about my garden, she spied a purple Clematis climbing up the obelisk on my front yard. The obelisk, a gift from Buck Swain, has been there five or six years, naked as a jaybird and I guess I never would have gotten around to planting anything to climb on it.
Have I got a great tip for you readers. There’s a new mystery writer on the block and he’s writing some humdingers.
Well, at least Bobby Cole is new to me. The only thing I can think about is going to bed so I can continue reading one of his novels.
Which is exactly what I’m going to do right now. It’s currently 4:15 p.m. by the way. That should tell you how infatuated I am
Bobby Cole, author
My life is at the bottom of a purse. No seriously. I’ve become a hunchback, hauling around everything I own in a cavernous handbag that could easily qualify as a storage unit.
Everyone knows that women carry around the weight of the world – on their shoulders, in a bag – Louis Vuitton if they’re lucky. My latest model was designed by Sam Walton and it has become the bane of my existence. It is a rather playful receptacle – one which initiates a game of hide and seek with me each day and I’m always “it.”