Nutella and You


Maybe it was because
I had my first acupuncture
in my life yesterday.

Or maybe it was because
I was in a hurry before my
eleven o’clock.

I was a little sore, but not
as overall achy to the point
of distraction because I

hadn’t experienced this little
pain in years. As soon as my
eyes opened, I was thinking

of you this morning. I started
coffee. Didn’t know what I
wanted for breakfast.

I was thinking of you, not
breakfast. So, I threw two
pieces of bread in the toaster.

Totally out of my normal
breakfast routine, I grabbed
an ultrathin slice of sharp

cheddar; didn’t feel like
slicing anything. Washed
a frying pan. Coffee signaled.

Toast popped up. I usually
know what I want for breakfast
before I start and zip through

it in control. Today, no control.
Feelings. I’ve snapped. You are
totally with me as I tried to

make breakfast. Toast was a
mechanical response to my
my mind, heart, and soul being

off the planet and this odd crazy
sensation of not being in as
much pain. Still in pain, but

energy that is new. So, at first I
thought I wanted peanut butter.
but as I opened the pantry door,

I didn’t feel like peanut butter.
It seemed like the toast was
staring at me wondering what

was taking me so long. So, I
grabbed the Nutella which I
hadn’t had since my last oatmeal.

Some black coffee and my usual
seat at the kitchen table. Took a
sip and a bite. It seemed like the

sweetness of the Nutella combined
with you. It was just Nutella and
you. My deep thoughts of you

exceeded the small pleasure of
Nutella on toast. A surprise good
morning text exchange brought

Nutella and you to a new level!
We didn’t expect to connect today
as it was your hair-on-fire, out-the-

door day. But we did. We had a short
impromptu call. Who would believe
me if I told them I had a touch of true

love on toast with just Nutella and you?

Odds and Ends No. 27


The wedding in Sedona was simply
exquisite, the wedding site lovely,
and the couple adorable and so dear.

The outdoor wedding was smack-dab
where the Red River Crossing Trail
meets the south side of Oak Creek.

It was an hour or so before sunset.
The creek was one step behind me.
I could hear the relaxing sound of

ripples in one ear, the sweet words
of endearing love in the other as
the gentle words and spirit of the

Native American officiant joined
the couple and all of us to our
surroundings. As the sun set and

the evening air started to cool, we
made our way back to a dinner
celebration at the Cucina Rustica.

I told her I wanted the mussels as
a meal and not an appetizer. She
read my mind. First, a “Mista

della casa salad” of organic baby
mixed greens dressed with their
signature sweet and sour

vinaigrette topped with toasted
sliced almonds. Homemade
linguine with mouth-watering

mussels in a special red sauce
followed. A delicate rice flour
wedding cake with a to-die-for

hint of strawberry did us all in
bringing this sweet day to a
close. More photos and hugs

all around. The wedding party
dispersed to inns and hotels
here and there. A late night

turned into early morning. We
left our sweet room in the quiet
of Sunday morning.  After a

breakfast of chorizo scrambled
eggs, beans, potatoes, and fresh
flour tortillas, and coffee, and

more coffee, I was ready for the
arts and crafts show down the
road. We had fun and found

some beautiful things. Then it
was time to head back home.
How grand it was to take part

in such a loving, sweet, and
touching wedding ceremony.
Love always blesses.

Thanks for including us; thanks
to both of you who are so special
to us and blessings always.

Mostly Minutiae No. 3


“It’s Saturday, Saturday…”
We like a milder roast for our
Saturday morning coffee. It
is the only day I grind beans.

It is a mild cup of “Joe” on this
special day. Anniversary day.
Joe is so mild, my normal
amount of cream turns it
lighter than tan.

We always have breakfast
together. We’ve been through
a lot; but we’ve never stopped
having our sweet breakfast
together. A loving tradition
for us.

For her, her usual piece of
toast. Lightly toasted with
almond butter. I cut her ounce
of Jarlsberg as thin as I can.

Our daily breakfast dishes are
solids in pastels and such. Our
Saturday ones look like paintings
of old Camembert labels in blues,
greens, and reds.

I cut my half ounce of Dubliner
and put out butter and the apricot
preserves I like on my single matzo
cracker. I add a few thin small
slices of hard salami to my plate.

I use the same cup almost every
day; she does not. She picks one
with floral designs, warms her
Silk milk for fifteen seconds and
pours her Joe. We sit and give
thanks.

Our sweet breakfast is filled with
a special gift for each, reflections,
tears of joy, and lots of laughter.

And we give thanks for another
year of life and love together. So,
there it is; we sip mild Joe on
Saturdays.

Breakfast Together


I was shaving, trying to
think of anything good.

I’ve grown tired of this
mindless morning ritual.
For me it is mostly
electronic.

Anything over two days
will cost me the return
of the barbaric blade.

Folly followed. I thought
of growing a beard again
for the umpteenth time
since we were married.

Then I thought of love.
Our love.

I would love to make you
all the promises of youth,
but I am not young.

I wasn’t young when we
married. Did I promise you
the moon like a teenager
in love come what may?

Sorry, Disneyland is still
on our wish list. What we
thought would happen
hasn’t happened.

Our wish list may be longer
rather than shorter;
our lives may be shorter
rather than longer.

I reject this nonsense true
or not. Circumstances and
the events of life may have
cast shadows over the light
of our love, but what of it?

Our love has taught us
forgiveness. Real forgiveness
that assuages our failures
and hurts.

This calls for a song or novel
to tell you how much I love
you. Yet, you have endured
this poets imperfect love.

The torment of this hand-held
lawnmower was coming to
an end. I smiled from within
as I thought how sweet it is
that we never stopped!

The joy, the delight, the
love in it. Pleasure at its
finest.

We breakfast together everyday.