Sunday for Recovery

Wow – it’s a good thing today is Sunday and I don’t have to work. I partied way too hard and way too late last night. It was a rocking downtown, I can tell you that! I need the day to detox and sleep it off. Don’t bother me until Monday – I might be half human by then.

Eat Pray Love Barf

The Julia Roberts movie, Eat Pray Love was on the cable movie channel. So I started watching it. Maybe a good chick flick would be relaxing and maybe even romantic. After all, the title refers to Love. But it was really about some whack job looking to find herself and the men she ditched for no good reason other than she felt restless.

It was one of the most awful, pitiful movies I have ever watched. I was so disgusted with the main character that I wanted to slap the whine right out of her. I couldn’t finish the movie – it was too stupid. Awful movie – and even Julia Roberts couldn’t save that piece of claptrap.


Got a haircut today. I just needed to get out of the office for a little while and clear my head. Most days I go out for lunch, but today lunch was not long enough to refortify. I called the receptionist and told her that “I was going to be out for another hour and to forward any calls to my cell phone. It rang a couple of times, but I let it go to voice mail. I just needed that hour undisturbed and doing something for myself for a change. And I look better for it.

When the phone rings at 1:00 am

It was 1:00 am when my phone rang and I knew as I reached for it to answer that it would not be good news. When the phone rings in the middle of the night it is never good news.

A woman was calling, crying, to tell me that her son had just committed suicide by taking a massive prescription drug overdose. Both the mother and her son work for us in the warehouse, third shift. So she was calling to let me know that they would not be at work this morning. The bad news was a shock – I had no idea her son was so depressed that he would ever do anything like that and now I feel guilty for not paying more attention to him. How could I not see that something was so terribly wrong in his life that he would do this? But then, it came as a complete surprise to his mother, too.


As kids we were taken to several different places that let you “pick your own” fruits and vegetables. My parents would take us because we would save some money by picking your own, but also because it was a wholesome family activity that would keep us busy for sometimes hours at a time.

My parents believed that fresh picked not only tastes best but is healthiest for you, and I agree. We often went to a farm that grew strawberries and we would load up the freezer with fresh strawberries – my mom’s most favorite fruit in the world. We also picked other fruits and vegetables, and we patronized a lot of fresh fruit and vegetable stands that lined the Maryland highways, buying everything from fresh peaches to cantalopes to green beans to sweet corn.

When my children were young, we continued that tradition with them and they have picked many things from other’s gardens as well as our own. But our favorite has always been to pick blueberries. Not only is picking blueberries great family fun, but they freeze and keep well, and can be used in so many delicious things from the kitchen. There’s nothing like a stack of grandma’s fresh blueberry pancakes with melting real butter and warm blueberry syrup!