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Last week, I took a trip with a few of my girlfriends to Porto, Portugal. I had never been to Portugal and when the opportunity arouse, I could not resist saying yes! I was curious about what I would see in Portugal and began doing research along with my girlfriends. There were a few things on the list that I definitely wanted to see. I wanted to see historical places, churches, taste local food, absorb the culture, sights, sounds and smells. I also wanted to visit the cafe and bookstore that J.K. Rowling frequented while teaching English in Porto to school children while writing Harry Potter.
Spring is my favorite season. I know I say that all the time, but I absolutely love it. Perhaps, it’s because of the new life that it promises, new chances and new beginnings. The air is crisp and clean and filled with song birds with swirl breezes filled with hints of early blooms around my head. Lots of wonderful springy thing are happening around here.
I didn’t expect to find Lucy dead on the floor of the coop as I went in that bright sunny afternoon the Friday before Easter. I had just seen her in the morning and she and I had our usually interaction. As I was busying myself tidying up the coop, Lucy was my constant companion, chatting away with her deep voice sharing all chicken things with me. She’d come in and out, nuzzle near for a quick pat on the back. To and fro, she has been my daily escort for years. As a result, we had developed a little ritual that I looked forward to every morning.
Spring is here and the eggs are abundant. We have eggs coming out of our ears! So many eggs, that I find myself giving away cartons to friends and family. One of my favorite, easy and simple ways to enjoy some of those eggs is to fry them up. I love fried eggs. Over medium is my favorite preparation. I usually don’t give much thought to frying eggs, but today, I thought I’d share just how I make fried eggs. It’s super simple and fun, plus delicious!
I’ve always loved birds. The intrigue and the lure of their world has always called to me, even in my dreams. As a little girl, I can remember having the most amazing dreams about flying. I was just high enough that when I would soar over the crowds, no one could reach me with their upward stretching arms. Now as part of spring’s promises, it’s hard to miss their singing. Because their songs start early, perched in the bushes and tree outside my bedroom window. Even more, I like to think that the birds are announcing spring’s arrival, just as regal trumpets would announce the arrival of royalty.