One cannot travel through life devoid of scars.
Each nightly ritual reminds of stories past as you
Sluice away at the open wounds of the day.
I trace a silver line on the curve of my foot,
Conjuring up memories of hurried feet along train tracks,
The shortcut to home. Furtively listening for the train whistle
That would squeal on us, my brother and I hastened home.
In my haste, I stumbled on a broken beer bottle, flung negligently.
The gash was deep, he tore his shirt in strips and bound me safe.
I hobbled home. We laughed. My brother gave me the shirt off his back.
I retrace the silver line fondly.
I spent last weekend enjoying some time on the west coast with my family. Whenever we get together there is sure to be an abundance of delicious food, and last weekend was no exception. There are a number of talented cooks in the family so a few weeks before our family gatherings we usually divvy up meals and cooking responsibilities and I’m always eager to help, especially when it comes to desserts and treats.
With egg stratas, mimosas, and fresh fruit already on the breakfast menu, I volunteered to take charge of the sweet component and made this Blueberry Sour Cream Coffee Cake. The recipe can be mixed up quickly with just a spoon and whisk which was definitely a bonus for me since I was able to start working on it while part of the family was still sleeping. The sour cream keeps the cake moist and tender and…
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