Ode to a New York Classic

Happy National Sandwich Day! 

This day has to do with celebrating convenience food, and #OnFridaysWeHaiku, so I must ask you: 
What else could I do?  

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Word. Peace Out, Pops. 

My father HATES snakes. Rather like Indiana Jones hates snakes, only more vehemently. When I was little, a black snake got into our farm house. I vividly recall his unrelenting flow of profanity as my dad chased it around the first floor, while my mom, brother, and I looked down from the upstairs hall. Without going into gory details, the snake…

Clearly, I have but One Way to Answer

When in NYC – thou shalt not #fangirl.  Living in the Big Apple, I’m no stranger to celebrity sightings, not that I have pictures and autographs to prove it. Part of becoming a New Yorker is adhering to the unspoken rule against acknowledging any celebrity who is just trying to get on with daily life.    I’ve bumped into Phil…

Who can blame the rose its compulsion to make thorns?

The weary blossoms  bow their heads to the rain drops, welcoming the rest.    The leaves remember  hopeful buds, bursting with life, eager in the Sun.    These fragile beauties captivate, intoxicate. They’re seasonal hires.   Suffering cut backs, the greens dig deep to survive perennially.  Inspired by numerous photos of these rain soaked rosebushes as well as…