The Banana Tree and Me
It seemed like half our kitchen had been taken up by the banana tree, bringing a bit of the tropics into snowy Wisconsin.
It seemed like half our kitchen had been taken up by the banana tree, bringing a bit of the tropics into snowy Wisconsin.
An invitation to tea with the Lord sounds, well, heavenly.
Ramsay is creating a version of himself who can create a masterpiece, even if he is destroyed in the process.
I can’t explain, even to myself, why I’ve taken such pains to keep one previous owner’s “Streaky Bay Parish Announcer” bulletin from December ’65 in its proper page.
Even though I haven’t yet tried poutine and don’t really know where Manitoba is, I’ve observed enough fun quirks about Canada and Toronto to share.
Contentment has been slowly blooming for me this summer.
The line delineating old life and new life is blurry, and many aspects will never be the same.
After six weeks of unstructured days and minimal obligations, I no longer harbor illusions about what I might someday accomplish if I “just had more time.”
Pull those covers all the way over to your side at night. What doesn’t kill him makes him stronger.
I’d known when Josh and I started dating that I might have to leave. But staying was within our grasp, and it feels nice to know what your future is going to look like.