Comments on: It’s funny how something can remind you of something totally different

By: hola, isabel » Blog Archive » Here, take him. Promise me you’ll take good care of him. Promise me.

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 18:08:46 +0000

[...] Sunday night, while trapped driving in the car, the topic was broached. Without me even saying anything The King got defensive about his presumed notion that, if he died, I would pack up Babboo and move far, far away to live with my family in the country. Now, to be completely honest, I’ve never once said I would do this. But again, to be completely honest, I might. [...]

By: Audrey

Audrey — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 22:48:09 +0000

When I studied abroad in Barcelona, my host family — an adorable retired couple whom I nicknamed Anna (because that was her name) and Good Ole’ Grampa — lived literally 2 blocks from the Sagrada Familia church. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sagrada_Fam%C3%ADlia)
The metro stop I used to get to class was right at the base of those amazing steeples. In the 2 months I was there, I never once passed by that amazing building without looking up in awe.

Anna and Good Ole’ Grampa always had fresh peaches for dessert after every meal. Those were some of the best peaches I’ve ever had in my life. One of my fondest memories is of Good Ole’ Grampa slicing up his after-dinner peach one night, putting the slices in his glass of red wine, and triumphantly saying, “Look! Sangria!” It was truly adorable.

By: CPA Mom and Soccer Mom Angela

CPA Mom and Soccer Mom Angela — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 18:27:34 +0000

We have a farmer’s market but it’s NOTHING like Pike’s. Seattle is AWESOME! I can’t wait to visit again on day.

By: metalia

metalia — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 04:32:44 +0000

Great post, Isabel; I’m mentally planning a trip to Seattle now.

By: Liz

Liz — Thu, 12 Jul 2007 01:40:50 +0000

Great post. Now I want some peaches, too!

Isn’t it amazing how homesickness tastes? For me, it tastes like strawberry-rhubarb pie. My neighbor had a wonderful garden and every summer my mother and I went to pick strawberries at a local patch and then got the rhubarb from June and Eli’s garden.

It’s the only pie my mother knew how to make. Or at least the only one she ever made WELL. I’m sitting here thinking of the sweet and tart and the sugary crust…oh, Lordy!