Scarlet Letters

This blog is in danger of becoming all about food, but a) the writing stuff is in motion but still hush-hush, and b) the family sees each other so rarely right now that we don't even get much in the way of Snippets. That is, unless you could yesterday's endless snark of poor Jim on his 51st birthday, which I kept misremembering as 61 with a big ol' grin. And yet he married me. If you're curious what's going on, you can catch up with the Literary Underworld crew at its site ; with my professional photography and newstuff at Donald Media ; and of course my Facebook and Twitter . I promise there's going to be very big changes soon. In the meantime, our observance of Memorial Day means the family gets to spend a few days actually in each other's company. Not Friday, as Boy had rehearsal for Beauty and the Beast  and I had the night shift. And not tonight (Sunday night), because Jim has a night shift and Boy is seeing one of his friends in a play. (In case...

First, thank you to all four million of you who wished me a happy birthday. I tried to respond to each message, but Facebook may have had apoplexy. Y'all sure make me feel loved. To reiterate what I said on Facebook: I want more birthdays for everyone. In lieu of gifts, please consider donating to my Relay for Life efforts. I have lost two more friends to cancer in 2018, not including Jim's father, who had multiple health problems. It's only March. Click here if you wish to donate.  (Of course, those of you who already sent gifts? Thank you, too!) I had a pleasant birthday with my menfolk. Boy actually managed to be off work for a change. We had lunch at Tucano's, one of our favorite special-occasion places, and saw A Wrinkle in Time  at the fancy-schmancy theater with the recliner seats. I tell you, I could get used to that. Then we went shopping and I bought a silly amount of chocolate for myself. And a shower curtain, because I'm exciting like that. The fin...