Before I set up my first blog years ago I knew it was wise to Google my name. While I was relieved nothing unpleasant showed up, imagine my surprise to learn one of the more popular Micky people out there is a German rocker of the same name.
It’s true—dark chocolate has medicinal value. I feel better every time I eat a piece.
It’s true—wine in moderation, especially red—has medicinal value. Add a simple dinner and the company of my beloved, and I know I’m a blessed woman.
It’s true—ice cream has medicinal value. I feel better every time I eat a couple scoops. Chocolate, of course.
Years ago our family visited an aunt and uncle who lived in the country. Bored with the grownup talk, my sister and I [about nine and eleven respectively] decided to hike up a huge, nearby hill, crawl under an electric fence, take a few more breathless steps and pause to rest—only to realize we were mere feet from a large bull and several milk cows. Let us say the descent was hasty, and fortunately, without incident.
Back in the day I learned to write left-handed. Well, that was after I learned an even more important lesson—turn the paper on the desktop so it would appear I was using my right. By the time the teacher figured out what I was doing, I’d mastered the art of beautiful penmanship.
My beloved would read to me at night when we were first married. Wasn’t that we lacked for entertainment, it helped to get our thoughts off the stuff we couldn’t do anything about. When the kids came along, he read to them. Has all come full circle. Now he reads to me again. Helps get our thoughts off the stuff we still can’t do anything about.
If I got paid every time I had a worried thought, I’d be a wealthy woman—and probably have little need of the hundreds of books in my study related to contemplation, dying to self, and all things spiritual. Then again, I’d probably also have even less need for a Divine presence who always has the best answers, the greatest insights, and the most perfect timing with just about everything in my life.