Burnt Chocolate Stories

Eight years ago, I had a bout with pneumonia and had to stay in bed for a month. At the time, I watched every episode of Call the Midwife and found it to be a compelling show, tackling some of life's challenges. As new seasons emerged, I spent a weekend binging. And now it has concluded so it was time to find a new show to watch. My new addiction is Silent Witness, also a British series that began in 1996 and is still going strong. Thirty years strong. That's 30 seasons with ten episodes each, which means there are 300 episodes. I've watched twelve seasons so far, seen my favorite actors leave and get replaced with new favorites. I just happened on it several months ago which was something of a lark. I do love a good crime drama, so I think that's what got my attention at first. For years I watched Law and Order, so I thought this would be similar. Not so. What makes this program so appealing is the story is told from the pathologist's perspective and we see the dev...

Some people are very private and share little of their inner angst.  There are certainly enough idioms to support this view. "Don't air your dirty linen in public." "Keep your skeletons in the closet." "Keep it behind closed doors."  There's dozens of them that encourage people to put on a happy face even though inside they might be feeling frightened or alone. And while that might be one road to take, I've usually taken the opposite trail. When Ben was diagnosed with ALS, I was beyond crazed. At the time, we lived in Dodgeville on one hundred acres. I remember hiking down to the meadow and screaming at the trees in frustration and anger. Afterwards, my throat hurt and I felt as miserable as I did before. I had a job as the Director of the Family Resource Center in Iowa County which brought me to town every day. I met neighbors and friends on a daily basis and as I walked around the town, whoever greeted me in the usual way of asking how I was,...

The first six summers of my life were spent in Union Pier, Michigan just over the Indiana border. I remember the air feeling like a warm blanket with cool breezes. I spent every day at the beach with my older sisters except for rainy, windy days. My father drove up on the weekends. The cottage we stayed in had literally two rooms and an outdoor shower. My mom swept the sand out in the morning and joined us at the beach with lunch. It was a mostly idyllic time. And here I am again, seventy seven years later, to see if what I remember is still true. The air and sunshine feels the same. We're in a three bedroom house with plenty of space to lounge, air conditioning and a screened in porch which my childhood self would have considered a palace. All those years ago, I ran down the wooden steps to the beach and threw myself into the water. Yesterday, I held the rail and worried my balance wouldn't hold on the sand walking to the water's edge. I brought two bathing suits that I do...