French waffles are a county fair tradition for us and this trailer is the only one who serves them properly – fresh made and packaged in paper bags.
Other companies try to compete, but since the simple yet special confections aren’t their specialty, they just don’t compare. Worse yet, they package them in sealed plastic bags that make them soggy!
The real ones, made by this trailer that’s been in the same family for decades cost a bit more but the flavor and texture is worth the extra expense. The fair only comes once a year, so I consider it okay to splurge for a few special treats.
Adapt to circumstances in order to make progress
– Fortune Cookie Saying but so true. Acceptance is essential to moving forward. We must stop fighting the present in order to progress.
I had intended to include photos of varied leaves as they fell. Alas, we had an odd sort of color season this year. Eighty degree temps in early October caused a delay in the change.
A rain last week painted the leaves quickly, the wind that accompanied the storms blew them down almost immediately. That is, except for the ones that still remain green upon the trees. It’s all okay with me. Just hope no heavy snow falls upon the stragglers, dragging the tree limbs to the ground.
I really liked the way these leaves, crimson in hue when their topsides show, arranged themselves upon the lawn so thought I’d share their image.
The nearest experiences to treasure hunts I’ve enjoyed in years are recent visits to the southern shores of the great lakes (the Atlantic when I can make it). I love to stroll the sand, seeking bits of glass, stones that speak to me, or surf smoothed pieces of driftwood, even the walnut that made it’s way .
Maybe to many my tiny treasures seem insignificant. But daydreamers like me find solace and inspiration in the souvenirs we stuff in our pockets to remind us of our beach walks.
Keepsakes that carry the spirit of the sea, our finds bring to mind stories of the origins of the objects we discover, before they were captured by the waters and deposited at our feet by the force of a rhythmic wave.
What a wonderful read. A masterfully woven tale of family, failings, and new beginnings, set in the charming Cape Cod town of Chatham.
An emotion charged accident prompts a father, Cecil to leave his family, believing his absence is in their best interest. A new man, Hank, eventually assumes his role, serving as a source of strength for wife, Lindy, and three daughters, Shannon, Wren, and Piper.
Later in the lives of everyone, and toward the end of his own life, Cecil feels a need to return to his family. Hank, Lindy, daughters and grandchildren hold varied opinions regarding his return. In the end, a special project, and chance happenings in the lives of each daughter come together to bring understanding which offers hope for the future of all concerned.
A great book club read, with a lovely list of discussion questions at the end.
I was captured by the cover, the unique beach scene and the casually classy bright blue cursive of the title. I found the story even more intriguing than I imagined.
Unthinking respect for authority is the greatest enemy of truth – Albert Einstein
These seagulls seem to be conferring about the changing weather, wondering whether to weather the winter here on the north shore or to fly south to warmer beaches?
Me too. I’ve never been south, and I do enjoy the changing seasons but don’t savor slippery roads.
Saw an encouraging news report the other day, a prediction for normal or better temps and dry conditions this year. A pessimist burst my bubble, mentioning the unreliability of meteorologists, but one can always hope.