Love

“Being there”

by

My friend’s sister died on Thursday, and on Saturday I made the 600-mile drive from Raleigh, NC to Conneautville, PA to attend her funeral on Sunday.

It was a 9.5-hour drive, and I decided to stop every 2 to 2.5 hours for a break, since I was driving alone and wanted to keep alert. My first stop was about 2.5 hours into the trip — at the first rest area in Virginia — and I assessed the snacks and lunch my husband had packed for me, which included 2 homemade sausage biscuits that were fantastic.

I arrived at the Quality Inn I’d reserved the day before, ate a quick Fish and Chips meal (would you look at the size of that fish, and those 2 paltry hush puppies, which I paired with the two free cheddar biscuits) at Red Lobster, and hit the sack early.

The visitation and short funeral mass — both at the funeral home — were the next day, and after lunch at my friend’s family’s house I drove 3 hours of the return trip before just walking into a Hampton Inn in Fairmont, WV and asking if they had any rooms available. I’m pretty sure this is the first time in my life I’ve ever gotten a hotel room without having a reservation. That’s out of my comfort zone.

I left at 9 the next morning and got home at around 3.

A Valentine’s Day tradition: heart-shaped cuisine made with love

by

It’s the 10-year anniversary of Bob making some kind of heart-shaped food on Valentine’s Day each year. He might have done it before 2015, but that’s the year I came into the picture and started documenting them.

Ta-da! The 2025 masterpieces: a Ghirardelli Caramel Walnut Turtle brownie cake and some Cherry Jell-O!

Creations over the years:

Happy Valentine’s Day to my thoughtful and talented husband! ❤

There’s nothing fishy about it… he’s a keeper

by

I don’t like salmon, and Bob only cooks it when I’m not home—usually when I’m away for a few days or so—so he doesn’t have to listen to my whining about how “the place smells like fish.”

But he had a hankering for some salmon patties today, and he cooked them in spite of my being here. When I didn’t smell anything after several minutes, I jokingly asked if he took our (over-the-stove, built-in) microwave out to the porch, to which he said, “Nope.”

I went outside to find it was actually the air fryer, and not on the porch, which is right outside our kitchen door, but out onto the deck and as far away from the house as possible.

I do get that he really is more than I deserve.