Make yourself at home. Put your feet up. Grab your favorite beverage and prepare to enjoy the reads.




Mulling over the sands of time
one hand gently drops over the other.
Yielding now, the grains fall
like liquid velvet.

Melted beyond measure,
like fur petted softly,
there is no way to capture
the pre-existent creature
rubbing against cosmic filaments
of fine quartz and fossil.

Wherever they rest,
whether bathed in light,
or basted in heat,
or moistened by sea foam,
the ever-changing changlessness
dips and rolls and intermingles,
softening ever so patiently,
through eons of time.

Imperceptibly blessing itself
into finer and finer particles,
the sparkling dust
is carried away on the air,
lifted into the continuing cycles of nature.

So thoroughly embodied
with the breath of the sky father,
the clouds welcome
the new ones into their folds
and expand with the weight.

New energies,
stronger than before,
ready to come forth.
floating within sunset hues,
passive... waiting for dusk
to overtake the day
and put to sleep the overactive world;
like hidden thoughts,
they give birth to new dreams.

For Genealogy Purposes

1949 February 1

This letter is from Flora Waite’s half sister written to Flora’s daughter, Hazel Dean English

Dear Hazel,

Was so glad to hear from you. My hand is rather shaky, But will try and write you a few lines. You ask me my age. If I live til the 28th of next month I  will be 84, so you see I am not young any more. I hope you can come and see me if you make thee trip you spoke about next summer.

My hearing is good, can see pretty good, so I have no reason to complaine. But my hands are pretty crippled and a good many aches and pains all over my body. I am afraid I can’t help out much with thee family names. My Fathers name and of course would be your mother’s father was Levi Waite. Your Mothers mother died when your mother must have been quite young. Your mother had 2 sisters older than she was. I don’t  know her mothers name. Then my Father married again. My Grandfathers name was Aidin Waite, But I can’t remember my Grandmother Waite’s name as she died when I was quite young. Your Father & Mother came to visit us quite often when I was a young girl and before I was married I spent several weeks two different times with them. I can’t remember just thee number of kiddies they had then.

I hope to hear from you again and sure hop to see you & your husband this summer. I know we would have a good visit. Clyde & Edith would like to meet you.

Love to you & your family
Aunt Florence Hoyt

Louise Waite Brown (mother’s sister)
Clyde & Edythe
Children of Aunt Florence
Lived in Erie, PA



She stood in the grove 
emptying her heart
into the darkness,
crying out to the trees.

Oh, hear me! Help me!
I am your little child,
a crone before my time.
My youth has been stolen from me
betrayed by the revolutions of the earth
My heart beats only acid through my veins.
like cities choked with carbon dioxide.
I am the desolated forests of the summer fires.
Nothing left but ashes.

Yet, the crone limps away
beneath the moon, tottering...
the pain of over-ripe decline
prematurely stabs
like some ancient soldier
hacking at the enemy
with a heavy sword.

She sits, quietly breathing,
ignoring the pain with resolve.

I smile... talk... laugh with others
and no one knows what is gnawing
like some unseen dragon
crunching my bones.
The physical pain is bearable,
even the searing fire in my veins.
But the pain in my outraged spirit
is wailing and ranting across the galaxies
as it hurls itself further out into the cosmos
searching for peace 
and a shred of hope.


Digital art and poem by Elizabeth Munroz


Redwood Forest Family

When they visit...

friends and family,

I take them to the redwoods

up at Big Basin

always driving the winding roads,

the ones with the dips

and curves on the edges.

Everyone is talking,

making up for lost time,

sharing about the kids,

the new house, the loss

of beloved Fluffy,

graduation, weddings...

I drive, smiling and nodding,

loving every minute.

The trees are getting taller

the ravines deeper, curves sharper

I put the windows down,

for fresh air, I say.

But really... it's to invite

the forest, breathing

it's ancient silence,

into the car.

Then, no one talks.

They just look.

I park the car and

the Old Ones

stand over us.

Insignificant humans.


Poetry Magazines and Journals

2River View
32 Poems

Alaska Quarterly Review
American Poetry Review

Backwards City Review
Barn Owl Review
Bat City Review
Big Muddy
Black Warrior Review
Blue Mesa Review
Boxcar Poetry Review
Brooklyn Review

The Cincinnati Review
Cimarron Review
Colorado Review
Columbia Poetry Review
Copper Nickel
Court Green

Denver Quarterly
Drunken Boat

The Eleventh Muse
Emergency Almanac

Fourteen Hills
Forklift, Ohio
Free Verse

The Georgia Review
The Gettysburg Review
Gulf Coast
Gulf Stream

Harpur Palate
Hayden's Ferry Review
Hotel Amerika
horse less review

Indiana Review
The Journal


Konundrum Engine

The Laurel Review
Louisville Review

Mid-American Review
Mississippi Review
Missouri Review

Narrative Magazine
Ninth Letter
New Orleans Review
The New Yorker
New York Quarterly
No Tell Motel

Oklahoma Review
Open City

Paris Review
Parthenon West Review
past simple
The Pinch
Poet Lore
Poetry Midwest
Portland Review
Post Road
Prairie Schooner

Quarterly West

Red Mountain Review

Seattle Review

Smartish Pace
Southern Review
Spinning Jenny

Tarpaulin Sky
Third Coast
Threepenny Review
Tin House


Washington Square
West Branch
Word For/Word


Red Light - Green Light

When I was a young woman I visited my parent's house one summer, my two little girls with me. It was a cottage home, small, but cute. It rested within a beach front community in Youngstown, New York, located at the mouth of the Niagara River where it joins Lake Ontario. The beach sat down below a cliff, which we had access by stairs.

In the daytime, we could look across a great expanse of shimmering water. It felt so peaceful. Sometimes there were sailboats afloat. Occasionally, if we looked out far enough, we could see an occasional freighter ship running through the middle of the lake on it's way out to the St. Lawrence River to the Atlantic Ocean.

On a clear night my girls and I could sit at the edge of the cliff on the top step of the stairs, and view the black velvet water, thousands of stars sprinkled across it like sparkles glued upon a Halloween costume.

Without binoculars, straight across from us, about 40 miles away, we could see the lights of the city of Toronto, Canada. We often sat there lulled by the quietness of the starlight, the lapping of the water upon the shore, and the light breeze rustling the leaves on the huge oak tree in the back yard.

We could have lined a string directly across the lake to the brightly lit traffic signal that reliably changed every few minutes from green to red to yellow to green. It was hypnotic.

Photo of Toronto at Night by Richard Almasi


How to buy your favorite books online... cheap!

I had in mind to re-discover an old recipe book I once had. Would it still be in print? I certainly couldn't find it at my local book store, and though they offered to find it for me, I thought I'd rather google it myself. I remembered the title was something like Quick Bread or Fast Breads.

I rely a lot on Amazon to help me find what I'm looking for though I don't always buy from them. Google is too vast when I want to narrow down a title and pay the lowest price. Not only will Amazon have titles of books in print, but also books not in print, even ones not available from their site. How cool is that?

So, I'm at the Amazon website, I select "books" and type in the title, "Quick Breads". The results indicate there are 342 related subjects. I don't bother to check them all. If you look on the left column there are subcategories.

I selected the Cooking, Food and Wine Department, which then breaks down categories further. Two seemed the most logical, Baking (114) or Quick and Easy (77). Of course, I took the easy way out. Process of elimination! I really don't want to spend a lot of time looking for this old book and will be giving it up as a waste of time pretty soon. Only, I'm stuck on the nostalgia of the days and weeks I enjoyed spending time in the kitchen whipping up these fast breads.... and best of all, eating the finished product. So, I keep looking.

Wait a minute! That was the title of the book... "Fast Breads"! A quick search gives me two books that might be the one I want. Since I know I am looking for an older book, the two top selections I can immediately eliminate from my search. The next two have publish dates in the 1980's so this narrows it down. Since there is no picture of the books in question I will not recognize it by sight, and truly a picture may not match up anyways, because publishers often change the cover as each new edition is released.

My next step is to look for a review, which will reveal enough about the book to help me know which one is mine. And there it is. Fast Breads (Crossing Press Specialty Cookbooks.) by Howard Early and Glenda Morris. As it turns out, I did not recognize the authors names.

It is easy to see there are 2 brand new copies available at forty bucks each. Yikes! I wouldn't want to buy a new copy unless I can get it for very little. So I look at the list of used books. I'm not particular. If a book is used and not too dilapidated I don't mind paying a penny for it, plus postage.

So, looking at the list of book sellers offering "Fast Breads" for a penny, I want to buy from what I consider a reliable seller. I must admit I am hesitant to buy off a new seller, someone who has only sold a hundred books in the last two years, or who has less than 90 percent customer satisfaction rate. (You can look up their customer's comments, by the way.) Unless of course, the only one offering the book I want is a couple of new sellers with few sales and questionable ratings. Then, I have to decide how bad I want it. If the seller doesn't come through, or sends a copy that is not "acceptable" quality, then I will need to deal with the ensuing hassle of getting my money back.

But in the case of "Fast Breads", there are several penny books offered by sellers with high ratings and a long term sales history. If I have the opportunity I like to buy from charities. One of my favorite is Better World Books and I will always pay a little more for a book from them if the lesser prices don't give me much confidence.

The four that are offering for one penny are equally reliable in my opinion so I read what they have to say about the quality of their "good" book. Most seem reasonably the same so I order from the first one.

I prefer not to pay extra to have faster service. So, I order with the lowest shipping rate, which is $3.95. Now all I have to do is watch for the mail carrier and warm up the oven.

What are your favorite ways of purchasing books?


Note: I also use www.half.com and www.paperbackbookswap.com


Redemptive Creature of Pain

Deep within lies a slimy, pathetic Monster writhing in pain. We all know him. His own worst enemy, is he, only conscious of misery. He cannot see beyond himself. Pain lingers about him, like so many tangled wires jumbled in static giving off fumes.

Pain is his cousin who never goes away only to be dealt with in twisted anger, self victimized, ostracized. Unreachable, untouchable, unworthy of redemption, he refuses to break through his self-imposed barriers; believes he is helpless
against the invisible foe.

Pain is unacceptable, not a legitimate entity. Pain has planted thorny swords of barbed wire, preventing easy access. Pain wrapped in self loathing cannot move or grow. Tears of self pity, cover him like unshakable slime, his fears convincing him the pain will not desist. Self-flagellation wounds ooze thickly. He tells himself "it's all I am meant to be, just pain"

A most despicable Beast, unworthy and shamed,
is but one who needs tender love and healing nonetheless. Dear Beastie, I come to you, my hand outreached to comfort,
yet, you stab me with your lightning bolts, unwilling as a cowering porcupine. You can only unleash your pain yourself, I see. Did you know I was once like you?

By soothing voice, I sing to you. By soft-coated whispers, I encourage you to breathe, and unwind the chains you have wrapped about yourself. Hiding in the poppies to cover the pain, locked you further away from the truth of you, brought increased harm and alarm and no remembrance of who you are.

And so, I calm my mind, my aching heart, my stress-filled body to accommodate your need for undivided attention, your need for redemption from your false beliefs to embrace what I once thought was the enemy. Without your spiky armor, you appear quite harmless.

With your oozing wounds placated, your tears dried away, you are quite a cuddly creature and purr readily when petted.


Dedicated to the dark within us all.


How to Save Your Drowned Cell Phone

The other day my cell phone fell into a cup of Earl Grey tea. Today it is working just fine. What's my secret? you may ask. I'm glad to tell you what I did to save my phone.

Rather than cleaning myself up, or the table or floor where the tea splashed, I grabbed my celly and held it to the nearest piece of fabric, my t-shirt, and immediately began wiping dry. Then I quickly turned the phone upside down and pressed the fabric firmly against the keys, which leaked out a little more fluid. The hard part was next. I tried to open the little door that has the battery in it. I had to really work at it. I couldn't remember the trick to opening it. So, I highly recommend you practice once in a while. Time is of the essence. When I got the battery out, it had very little moisture. Quite minimal, in fact. Still I put the cloth to it. Forgot to mention that during all this I had frantically pulled my t-shirt off to provide this drying service to my celly as I ran to the kitchen.

The next part is the absolute most important. If you don 't have any rice on hand, you will be out of luck, so go out to the store and stock up. Will ya?

With the battery removed and the door to it left off, I put my cell phone into a bowl and covered it completely with dry rice. Now this is not the time to fuss that it is not whole grain. You definitely will have more effective results if you use white rice. Why does this work? Because rice will absorb the rest of the moisture that may be hidden in the crannies of your phone. Just like when you cook rice on the stove, it absorbs the water in order to become soft and fluffy food.

Reminder!!! Rice must be uncooked... dry!

Now this is the hard part! You have GOT to leave that phone in the bowl of rice undisturbed for at least 24 hours. Can you do that? If not, then it's time to admit you might have an attachment problem with your phone. If you run out to the phone store and pay a ridiculous price to have a new one immediately then we are talking addiction. It may be time for intervention! Reconsider your priorities!

So, after the allotted time, and then some, I rescued my phone from it's ricey rest, popped the battery back in and smoothly replaced the little door to the battery as if I did this sort of thing every day. VoilĂ ! I can now use my cell. Text me!

Now, I just gotta figure out how to get that dried tea stain out of the carpet!


Never Forgotten

were you but a memory to me

you would fade away to dust

but diamonds never fade


In memory of those I love who succumbed to Chondrosarcoma


Zen Empty

When life feels bereft

I ask myself,

is this the zen

of nothingness?

Is this the empty nothing

that all seek?

empty so lonely

empty so dark

empty so cold

This is not the peaceful void.

This is sadness enveloped in pain.

Where is the lightness of being?

Where is the void without suffering?

Written Sat Nov 20, 2004

Not feeling this way anymore. The art is my own creation.


Books in the Spare Bedroom

Revenge of the Middle-Aged Woman
Author: Elizabeth Buchan

Bel Canto
Author: Ann Patchett
Long Quiet Highway : Waking Up in America
Author: Natalie Goldberg
Children's Writer Guide to 2007
Author: Susan M. Tierney
Leap of Faith : Memoirs of an Unexpected Life
Author: Queen Noor

The Mind-Body Problem
Author: Rebecca Goldstein
Starting Out in the Evening
Author: Brian Morton

A Cat Is Watching: A Look at the Way Cats See Us
Author: Roger A. Caras

Contented Cat
Author: Nobuo Honda

The Perfect Kitten: How to Raise a Problem Free Cat
Author: Neville

Costumes for Your Cat
Author: Lynn Chang

Education of Oversoul 7
Author: Jane roberts

The Further Education of Oversoul Seven
Author: Jane Roberts
Ninja Secrets of Invisibility
Author: Ashida Kim

Ninja Mind Control
Author: Ashida Kim
The Pilgrim's Progress
Author: John Bunyan

Not Wanted on the Voyage
Author: Timothy Findley
Dynasty of Death
Author: Taylor Caldwell

Captains and the Kings
Author: Taylor Caldwell

Dynasty of Death
Author: Taylor Caldwell

Arab Historians of the Crusades
Author: Francesco Gabrieli

Girl With a Pearl Earring
Author: Tracy Chevalier

A Thousand Splendid Suns
Author: Khaled Hosseini

A 3rd Serving of Chicken Soup for the Soul
Author: Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen

A 2nd Helping of Chicken Soup for the Soul 

Author: Mark Victor Hansen, Jack Canfield
Chicken Soup for the Soul
Author: Jack Canfield, Mark Victor Hansen

Suleiman the Magnificent
Author: Andre Clot

Death Be Not Proud
Author: John J. Gunther

Rivals for the Crown
Author: Kathleen Givens

The Blue Sword
Author: Robin McKinley

Jacob's Ladder: The History of the Human Genome
Author: Henry Gee

Rules for Writers
Author: Diana Hacker

The Reluctant Fundamentalist
Author: Mohsin Hamid
City of Dreams: A Novel of Nieuw Amsterdam and Early Manhattan
Author: Beverly Swerling
The Beloved Invader
Author: Eugenia Price
Raleigh's Lost Colony
Author: David N. Durant

Legends, Lies Cherished Myths of World History
Author: Richard Shenkman
City of Glory: A Novel of War and Desire in Old Manhattan
Author: Beverly Swerling
Small Miracles: Extraordinary Coincidences from Everyday Life
Author: Yitta Halberstam, Bernie S. Siegel

Defending Andy: One Mother's Fight to Save Her Son from Cancer and the Insurance Industry
Author: Marilyn Azevedo

Frommer's Britain's Best-Loved Driving Tours
Author: Roy Woodcock, John McLlwain

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Bk 4)
Author: J.K. Rowling

The Pillars of the Earth
Author: Ken Follett
Author: H.Rider Haggard

The Name of the Rose: including Postscript to the Name of the Rose
Author: Umberto Eco

The White
Author: Deborah Larsen

Small Miracles: Extraordinary Coincidences from Everyday Life
Author: Yitta Halberstam, Bernie S. Siegel

The Devil's Horsemen : The Mongol Invasion of Europe
Author: Chambers

The Beloved Invader
Author: Eugenia Price

Pleasant Dreams: Nighttime Meditations for Peace of Mind/155
Author: Amy Dean, Amy E. Dean

Secrets of the Widow's Son: The Mysteries Surrounding the Sequel to the Da Vinci Code
Author: Daniel Burstein, David A. Shugarts

MycoMedicinals: An Informational Treatise on Mushrooms
Author: Paul Stamets

Fitness Over Fifty: An Exercise Guide from the National Institute on Aging (With DVD)
Author: The National Institute on Aging, The National Institute on Aging

Acupressure for Lovers : Secrets of Touch for Increasing Intimacy
Author: Michael Reed Phd Gach

Mastering Leptin: The Leptin Diet, Solving Obesity and Preventing Disease, Second Edition
Author: Byron Richards

When Crickets Cry
Author: Charles Martin

Yoga Over 50
Author: Mary Stewart

The Second Coming of Mavala Shikongo: A Novel
Author: Peter Orner

Pleasant Dreams: Nighttime Meditations for Peace of Mind/155
Author: Amy Dean

The Anti-Aging Fitness Prescription
Author: Z. Altug, Tracy Olgeaty Gensler

The Last Templar: The First Knights Templar Mystery
Author: Michael Jecks

Questions and Answers on Death and Dying
Author: Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

My Sister's Keeper
Author: Jodi Picoult
Galileo's Daughter : A Historical Memoir of Science, Faith, and Love
Author: Dava Sobel

Autobiography of a Face
Author: Lucy Grealy
The Essential Handbook of Women's Spirituality
Author: Barbara G. Walker

History of the Arab Peoples
Author: Albert Hourani

The Tartar Khan's Englishman
Author: Gabriel Ronay

Prehistory and the First Civilizations (The Illustrated History of the World, Volume 1)
Author: J. M. Roberts
The Templar's Penance
Author: Michael Jecks
Witchcraft a Secret History
Author: Michael Streeter
Magical Spells for Your Home: How to Bring Magic into Every Area of Your Life
Author: Anne-Marie Gallagher

The Illustrated Discovery Journal : Creating a Visual Autobiography of Your Authentic Self
Author: Sarah Ban Breathnach

Is It in Your Genes?: The Influence of Genes on Common Disorders and Diseases That Affect You and Your Family
Author: Philip R., M.D. Reilly 

The Double Helix : A Personal Account of the Discovery of the Structure of DNA
Author: James D. Watson

Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban (Book 3)
Author: J.K. Rowling
Author: Peter Abrahams
Still Here: Embracing Aging, Changing, and Dying
Author: Ram Dass, Mark Matousek, Marlene Roeder

Seventy Eight Degrees of Wisdom Volume 2 

Author: Rachel Pollack

Our Family Tree Record Book
Author: Mason Linklater
The Woman with the Alabaster Jar : Mary Magdalen and the Holy Grail
Author: Margaret Starbird

Essentials of Genetics
Author: William S. Klug, Michael R. Cummings

Creative Digital Photography
Author: Peter Cope
The Expected One
Author: Kathleen McGowan


Watching Old Video


Dad's habit

patting his bald head

Mom rubbing her sore leg

How straight is his profile

from nose to chin...

that "stiff upper lip"

he always said to keep.

How tired she looks

saying goodbye

them walking... holding hands.


Highlights from a Day in the Life...

Insomnia til 3 AM. Awake at 6. Wow! I got three straight hours. Kitty brings his mousie. I throw. He chases and returns with his prize, over and over again. He tires before I do, panting on the bed, mousie between his paws. I envy his droopy eyes. Too awake, I fix tea and toast, turn on the computer, check email. A good friend is diagnosed. Not the way to begin a day. I cry.

Phone rings, I miss the call, the important call I was waiting for. I can't call them back. Drats! I trip over kitty while getting the snail mail, there's the utility bill! Need I say more?

I crawl back into bed, a book in my hand. I awaken confused, a half hour before my appointment. Throw on yesterday's clothes, still wearing slippers, I run out of the house, my snarls wearing the hair brush.

Since I arrived late, I have to wait for the other patients to be seen first. On the way home, I stop at the fruit stand to enjoy a brief respite, drooling over strawberries, melon, banana, and fresh baked raisin bread. My rewards for a rough day.

Lugging my treasures through the parking lot, I realize my car has the keys locked inside, and trudge back into the store. I need to use their phone as my cell is with the keys! I call a taxi to take me home and wait while I break into my house to find spare keys and return me. I have to pay for the wait time as well as mileage. Forty seven bucks for strawberries, melon, banana, and raisin bread!

Finally, at home I can relax, take this morning's pills, settle down with a cup of tea, talk on the cell. While I grab the channel selector to watch the news, my cell falls into the tea!

Time to go to bed and hope for sleep.


Wood and Water


My mother always said my sister Satsu was like wood; as rooted to the earth as a sakura tree.

But she told me I was like water. Water can carve its way even through stone...and when trapped, water makes a new path...

Now I understood the thing I´d overlooked; the point wasn´t to become a geisha but to be one. To become a geisha...well, that was hardly a purpose in life. But to be a geisha... I could see it now as a stepping-stone to something else. After all, these are not the memoirs of an empress, nor of a queen. These are memoirs of another kind.

From: Memoirs of a Geisha



From Memories of a Geisha~~~

At the temple, there is a poem called "Loss", carved into the stone.

It has three words...but the poet has scratched them out.

You cannot read "Loss"... Only feel it.

The heart dies a slow death, shedding each hope like leaves...

Until one day there are none.

No hopes.

Nothing remains.


Summer Swim Party

In college, my professor invited us all to his house for a barbecue, and swim. Our families were invited, too. We were thoroughly enjoying ourselves laughing about how Seymour's dog would eat fallen avocados from the tree. No wonder he was so fat and glossy!

Marissa, let out a scream and, stunned, I watched as she dove into the deep end of the pool where her toddler was quickly sinking to the bottom. We'd never heard a sound out of the child, no splashing, no crying out.

Call it Mother's Instinct that Marissa had looked up just at that moment. But call it Mother's Death Defying Heroism that she leaped into the pool and saved her drowning son.

As Marissa resurfaced wild eyed, with little Brian held high in her arms she choked "I can't swim!"

Fortunately, two others had jumped into the pool right behind her and were able to rescue them both.

I am reminded of this harrowing incident in my life by a drowning that occurred yesterday by the local news that seven people were rescued yesterday. Sadly one of them died.

Most of us probably think that when someone is drowning, they spend some time thrashing about in the water calling for help. But, as it was with little Brian, he quietly sunk. Simple as that. People don't always appear to be drowning when they are drowning.

As for Marissa and Brian? She had seen him just in time. The few seconds he was under the water was sufficient for him to have a bit of coughing and crying once out of the pool. No CPR was necessary. Just the same, we took them to the emergency room to make sure he was okay. Thankfully, he was.


A Thought on Writing

"For a writer, life is always too short to write.
I will just try my best during what remains of my life." 
~~~ Cao Yu 1910 - 1996


How to Make Mom's Potato Salad

She never measured so do what you like!

My Grandmother used to boil the potatoes whole and cut them after cooking. And I remember Mom doing it that way when I was very little, until one day she got frustrated with how long it took to get them to boil and how hot the kitchen got.

So... cut the potatoes into the size chunks you want to be eating.

Boil to well done, and drain.

Mom made them well done so that some of the potato would be mushy and mix in well with the mayo.

While potatoes are still hot and in the pan, pour pickle juice to soak into potatoes

(She used Dill pickle juice. She said this was the "secret" to her potato salad to have the pickle juice soaked into the potatoes. I know she meant more flavorful than other people's recipe, but she never would have said that.)

When potatoes have cooled down some but still a little warm, transfer to bowl and stir in celery seed and dill weed. It's called weed, but what is meant by that is, it's the green leafy part of the plant and not the dill seeds.

Let sit a little longer to let the spice flavors sink in, then add:
chopped celery
chopped pickles
chopped boiled egg
chopped cucumber, take out the seeds first.

Use sweet pickles or relish here to compliment the dill flavor. Use a LOT of celery so there will be a little crunch in the salad. Smoosh the yolks and sprinkle over the potatoes and stir in later with the mayonaise.

Add chopped or sliced black olives (if desired). Mom didn't always have them.

After having mixed in the above, add mayonaise, a little mustard to give it color, and black pepper.

(This is where I have changed the recipe. I use brown mustard that has the seeds in it, and I do it to add flavor and not just color.)

Smooth the now finished mixture to make flat across top of container.

Nice and neat, put a layer of sliced boiled egg and thinly sliced cucumber and decorate with some of the olives, to make it look pretty. Sprinkle liberally with paprika to finish the artistry.

Refrigerate AT LEAST an hour before chowing down.


Please note: Mom's name was Genevieve Borden Deane