Ode To Spicy Nacho Doritos

An Ode to Spicy Nacho Doritos

Oh lovely spice;

Oh crunchy bite;

I love you so all day and night;

When I open the bag,

Crispy chips inside;

Healthy ‘cause they’re baked not fried… J

I know I’m in love;

I cannot lie;

As I pull out the first chip;

I’m so happy I could cry;

But now I must say a farewell fond;

Because I’m so big I’ll drain a pond;

Lose weight I must;

(But with any luck I’ll keep my bust;)

I will think of you often;

And, dream of your crunch;

Biggest Loser I’ll be (not the real one on t.v. in case you have actually read this far…);

Carrot sticks I’ll munch;

Don’t look for me in the snack aisle no more;

‘Cause now when I’m in the store;

I’ll be choosing healthy stuff;

My new weight loss program ain’t no bluff;

Though I’ll ne’er peer again;

Into the Family Sized Doritos bag;

I’ll look forward to losing my dreadful sag;

And become a beautiful hag!

Grieving In Real Life

My Mom started exhibiting dementia behaviors six years before she died. The doctor said it was cortico-basal deterioration. Since no one in my family had ever had dementia before, we all quickly Googled the disease and absorbed everything WebMD had to say about it. In the end, all I needed to know was that I would lose her twice – first her personality was taken leaving someone I didn’t recognize, and then her body forgot how to function and she passed away. I was 52 when she died, a month before my birthday and a week before Mother’s Day. I’m beyond thankful that my Mom got to be at my wedding, see the birth of my children, and watch them grow. I’m constantly thinking back to the great advice she gave me on life, but I still miss her terribly. She lives on in the wonderful memories she helped to create – joyful holidays with family and good meals, shopping outings, exchanging recipes! On the Psychology Today website, Dr. David Sack talks about how losing your parent hurts, ...

My Rockies!

I’ve watched the Rockies on our tv at home, And listened to the radio as I roam, Since I moved here in ’94, At Coors Field when they opened their doors; My husband and I shared season tickets with a friend, When Dante Bichette would reach and bend, To catch a ball that into left field flew, Hoping he’d catch it before into the stands it blew; Walker, Weiss and Vinnie Castilla, Won my heart from the Yankees - I said “see ya!” Love to watch the sluggers kiss the ball goodbye, Charlie, Arenado and Trevor watch it fly ! A rubber match I look forward so, Like the one last May, when the Padres scores were low, Gideon’s boy Murphy in his fluffed-up mitt, Tells the base on balls it’ll be a short trip, McMahon will stop them at second base, Even if a pick-off heads right at his face! Story defends the hole all the while, Leading the line up with gusto and guile, Then “Nado” throws to first at those caught napping, The crowd standing a...

How Does Art Tell a Story?

How does art tell a story? Growing up, we had a painting on the wall in our living room - Andrew Wyeth’s Christina’s World . A tall, thin woman was sitting in a field down the hill from a house. She seemed to be leaning, yearning to be in the house, her home. Figure 1 Christina's World by Andrew Wyeth courtesy Brandywine River Museum of Art For most of my young life I thought the woman was my Mom because she had the exact same features. When I asked her why someone had painted her in a field, she laughed and said this was a story of Christina. She said every picture tells a story. We might not know the specific story the artist had in mind, but we can create a story from their work. All art has a story and can transport from where you stand admiring it you in so many ways. It reminds you of places and faces, it brings forth emotions, As a kid, I created different stories about the woman in the picture. “She fell down and broke her leg and had ...

Alli's Writing

Search This Blog