Summer is here in full swing. I know this by the unforgiving sweltering heat. My lawn is finally resuscitating from hay-mode to wild-weeds-on-steroids mode, thanks to Mother Nature’s punctual 4 p.m. torrential downpour Florida is blessed with daily in the summer….And the kids are home.All day.Every day…In a world spinning with instant messaging, sound bytes and megabytes of Now Knowledge, I had the brilliant idea of slowing us all down. ;‘Remember the time of no cellphones?;’ I ask the void of my house;. ;My children giggle at their relic of a mother. She’s the same one that reminisces about receiving and writing letters on pen and paper and reading a good book on a lazy afternoon, when “nothing to do” was fun. She’s the one who, as a kid, had the entire Matchbox collection …Read on

There’s always at least one die-hard fan in the family, one person that will beg, insist, whine and demand that I must accompany my Thanksgiving meal with this item. After all, when it comes to Thanksgiving, I am a traditionalist, and this item is as traditional as it comes for them. And so, ever the compliant hostess with an unrelenting desire to please, I bite my tongue, force a grin, pull out the can opener and begin. As I work my way around the can’s edge, I remind myself to remain calm, begging for my mother’s proper Philadelphia genes to come through and handle this situation with dignity and grace, as those who knew her knew she would do. Alas, my Mediterranean spirit (point for dad) overrides any potential restraint and as my rusty can opener …Read on