Merry, Merry

I started the tree Saturday morning. It's been six years so, I had forgotten the time and effort involved. When the city-girl got home from work, she helped with the lights. By midnight we were looking good!

But the decorating had taken its toll on us all.

A Hollow Spot

We're down to the leftovers. Highly seasoned turkey, meticulously picked from the bone and thrown into a food processor along with a generous portion of onions and celery.

It'll fill a hollow spot.

That's what my friend Pattie used to say. No matter what she cooked or what your reaction to it, she'd always say, "It'll fill a hollow spot."

I remember how we used to meet at the privacy fence and exchange samples of whatever we were barbecuing that evening. Being just slightly 5', Pattie stood on a whatever she could to make herself tall enough to see over the fence.

She carried a switchblade in her pocket. And I have no doubt whatsoever that she knew what it was all about. During our friendship, I learned of how her life had afforded her opportunities to fine tune the art of self defense.

She was my neighbor for not quite a year. She moved on to Dallas with her family just a few months before I relocated to Virginia. We've lost touch.

I thought of her this morning and her hollow spot as I read the blog Writing to Survive.

And I'll snag a quote I found there as well: "It will only offend readers to whom life itself is offensive."