Look at the Scars...

We all have scars.
The skinned-knee scar is an instant reminder to tie my shoelaces when bike-riding. The small, round scar, just below my 3/4 sleeve-line, a reminder of the chicken pox I had at nine years old. The C-section scar, a reminder of exactly when I really fell in love for the first time.
These are the scars that people can see; that, perhaps (depending on where they are), people inquire about. The scars that aren't so visible to others run much deeper; some are still painful and some still turn my cheeks red with shame or embarrassment, anger or humiliation. We all have them; they are the scars we don't talk about but we feel them and live with them every day.

First Day Back Layer Cake

I vividly remember what it was like to go back to school after summer vacation (or any extended time away). It was a mess of emotions; a layer-cake of fear, excitement, nervousness, and anxiety all topped with hope. It didn't help that I was a kid who would get homesick at the thought of being away from home. I can remember many first days back when all I wanted was to be back home; I am fairly certain that I even walked home and hid in our hall closet one time, but maybe this is just what I'd only dreamed about doing. Thankfully, the homesick feeling lessened with each passing year; had it not, I could have developed a huge problem with skipping the "first day back" once I was able to drive myself to school. The small break I took from this recipe (during my early twenties, and during the twins' birth to five years stage) didn't serve to dull my memory... or taste buds.

I Can See Clearly Now, the Rain is Gone

Another great weekend at Saranac!
It was really, really nice. And, for the first time, I acutally spent some one-on-one time with my step-mom. Can you believe it? Joan and my dad have been married for (more than five but less than ten?) years and this is the first time I was really able to spend some quality time with her. We dined with her friends, Marsha, Connie and John, after I arrived at Camp on Thursday evening. It was one of those lovely, warm, Adirondack evenings. Marsha made this wonderful chili-like dish (called something like Picadilly) that she served over rice. We, also, had toaster-oven brownies, made from scratch, and filled with peppermint patties. A semi-sweet riesling was my wine of choice and Joan finished off my Seneca Steamer (which I'd left at Camp last weekend). Conversation centered around stories of platform tents and the island on which their families all camped in the 60's. For the first time, I found myself wishing I were alive in the sixties and had experienced platform tent camping and summers on an island.