Yesterday, Goodreads sent me an update on one of my favorite authors — Nora Roberts. From what I can tell, Nora keeps a blog through Goodreads, and yesterday, her post discussed all the things she is currently grateful for. She then told her readers to take turns posting their own lists. Most people posted in the comment sections. I thought I’d post mine here. In these moments of uncertainty and actual physical jeopardy, I’m first grateful for my health and that of the people
Today, I am having an odd reaction to self-isolation — I am feeling an intense sense of gratefulness and love which I can’t seem to shake. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t felt that way everyday, but today, the sun is out, and even if I am sitting inside, my heart feels as bright as the sky outside my window. I’m going to enjoy this feeling while it lasts. I know it might not. My elder daughter turned 23 on February 23, and that morning a group of us all went out for breakfast
Breaking Bread. According to the Urban Dictionary, “To break bread is to affirm trust, confidence, and comfort with an individual or group of people. Breaking bread has a notation of friendliness and informality, derived from the original meaning regarding sharing the loaf.” Another, simpler definition of the term is, “To share a meal with someone.” This comes from Writing Explained, an online site for writing instruction. They go on to state: This expression means more than
Today, for breakfast, I made myself hazelnut-flavoured coffee, yogurt with fruit, and poached eggs with goat cheese, slices of red pepper and sprinkles of rosemary. It made me think of my friend, Susan. Susan was my sister’s friend first, and when she moved from Alberta to Kelowna, she looked me up. My children were young then, and I was in University, so life was busy. I don’t remember how many times we saw each other, but I have this one beautiful memory of having dinner at
I walk onto the grounds of Kelowna’s Farmers Market after leaving my car in a shady spot at Orchard Park shopping centre and jaywalking across Dilworth Avenue. Unless you count Granville Island Market, I’ve never been to a farmers market, and I don’t fully know what to expect.
The day is warm, although smoke from forest fires burning to the North are fuzzing Kelowna’s horizon with haze. There are air quality warnings, but I’m not smelling smoke, my throat feels fine, and I t