Life is Your Story

Note - This post was inspired by recent conversations with friends who left this great city of Montreal back in the 80s. We spoke of the amazing food we grew up on (all noted below). We started with the golden, delicious, piping hot, Egg Rolls from the Yangtze and there was no heading back from there. But let's begin at the beginning - Lunch. My brother and I would go to school each day with a well balanced lunch in a bag. This would consist of a sandwich such as tuna or my mom's homemade chicken salad on rye or Challah, a Ziploc with 2 Oreo or chocolate chip cookies, a piece of fruit and this really great juice in a plastic bottle that they don't seem to make anymore. The first thing we would do when the lunch bell rang was to get out there in the school yard and "SELL, SELL, SELL". That's right (I hope my mother is not reading this post and if you are Mom - it's completely fictitious) we would sell our lovely lunches for cold hard ca...

Nothing is as beautiful as you No field of wild flowers No wild running river No rainbow No summers kiss You are beautiful as a person You are everything as a friend You are my past, my present, my future You are my beginning, my middle, my end I carry you with me wherever I go, wherever I am I know you support my every decision as much as my every mistake I see you when you are not there or here or anywhere I strive to emulate you in gesture, kindness and compassion You are beautiful You are irreplaceable You are my Mom I love you

(Circa - when I was younger)   "ROADTRIP!"   I was off on a journey, no not a journey, a mission - yes, I was going to find a small town and go completely "Footloose" on them. I looked at a map, packed my tights and my dancing shoes and then my mother called. I told her I would see her in a few days and that I was off on a "business trip" to which she replied "What business?" I hung up because that is what I do and ran outside, got into my car and it stalled and then it stalled again and then I realized I would need a lift to my mission. So I was about to call a friend when my father called (even though I had just spoken to my mother and he was sitting directly across from her having a piece of pecan pie). "Leeza (has no idea my name is Lisa), what's this your mother tells me you are hitting the road? I'm coming. Do they have good restaurants where you are going?" "Dad, you're not coming" and then miraculou...