Time certainly can change how we think about a situation – even a minor one. The phenomenon struck me recently when I remembered Janet’s.

In the small Ohio city where I used to live, Janet’s was the place to go for classy, fine dining. Janet had converted a small house on North Main Street into a restaurant that bore her name. Inside were several softly lit tables covered with white linen where customers could order from a menu equally elegant.

Roasting turkey may seem an odd topic for February if you’re someone like me who normally limits that activity to November. But a lot of things in life aren’t normal these days, and my adventure with turkey is one of them.

Thanksgiving, Turkey, Tradition. Every November I’ve crossed these Ts conscientiously with few exceptions. For decades I’ve prepared turkey the way my mother did: stuffed with homemade dressing, roasted at 325° and basted hourly, then covered with foil to prevent overbrowning. Finished when the leg gave a friendly shake.

Out of 50 Thanksgivings I’ve celebrated since I married, I’ve cooked about 45 of the dinners. The menu and my dressing recipe have changed somewhat during that time, but not how I roast turkey. Ah, tradition. Until 2020, that is.

Thanks to the relatively close proximity of our homes and the great care with which we all handle our contact with other people during the pandemic, my husband and I have frequently enjoyed the company of our adult children this year. Otherwise, the following story might have unfolded quite differently.

Someday when friends and I share the good things that came out of the pandemic of 2020, I can tell them how I discovered an abundance of roses just beyond my front door.

Thirty years ago I learned that even an expert’s wealth of knowledge and experience has its limits — and that sometimes having one’s own experience brings extraordinary benefits. The lesson became one of my favorite stories, told many times over coffee, written for the first time here.

This is the last of the three-part series about my trip to Portugal in 2018. If you have been following monthly, you know that I traveled through the country on a tour bus scheduled by SmarTours, which also provided an excellent guide named Romina. You also know I was surprised many times by what I saw and heard. What I learned about cork was no exception.

Last month’s post explained how Portugal became the destination of my first solo trip abroad. This post reveals how my appreciation for that nation grew during the group tour led by Romina through SmarTours. A disclaimer of sorts: I’m writing what I believe I remember.

Almost a year has passed since my first trip overseas by myself. This month’s post is the first of a three-part series about that adventure.

Grace: the mysterious and wondrous way Life works things out for us in spite of ourselves. That’s what grace means to me now. But when I was a little girl, grace simply meant the prayer softly murmured before every meal at which the family sat down together.