I groggily emerged from my Dad’s guest bedroom around 8:15 this morning, after having slept less than four hours.

“If  you want to go grocery shopping today, you have to be ready by nine o’clock because there’s a snowstorm on the way,” Dad announced.

For the past week I have been driving through horrid weather, dealing with marginal hotels, struggling with a nasty sinus infection, and sitting in meetings. All I wanted to do was chill for a little while and write. “I’m not going anywhere at nine o’clock in the morning.”

“Well, suit yourself, but there’s nothing in the house for you to eat.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to starve,” I insisted, as I plunked my rear end down in the recliner and opened my laptop.

For about three hours, coffee did the trick, but as noon approached I began to get hungry. I wandered into the kitchen and stood in front of the open refrigerator door, perusing my choices. Butter. White bread. One bowl that contained half a dried up  tomato and a hunk of deer sausage. And a stack of Continue reading →

You might also like: