Are you at that age where little events pop up past memories? The other day, Corina was baking brownies and it brought back the memories of my mother’s cooking. How I would sit there and watch her make the batter. How she would look into her Betty Crocker Cookbook for just the right recipe and she would alter it. Make her own version . She would smile and hand be the beaters for me to lick.

I would taste the batter and say “yummy Mommy ” and she would smile a sense of approval. Her little critic gave her the nod of acceptance. We would have chocolate frosting on the brownies, she always said brownies needed chocolate frosting to be brownies. No powder sugar! Of course I always voted for frosting because I licked the beaters.

I woke up  this morning at two A.M. I had the taste of those brownies in my mouth so real I felt I was nine years old again. I sat up realizing I was at home in Costa Rica. Not in Pottawatami Hills, a suburb of Chicago, Illinois where I grew up. Dreams can be so vivid. Do you have this happen to you?

My mom was the reason I became a restaurant owner. She gave me the spark to enjoy cooking and develop my own recipes. I would school my self in the art of country cooking. I was never inspired to become a culinary chef. Just the art of country cooking. My sister is an exemplary candy and cake maker. There is not a candy she makes I do not devour.

I normally do not remember my dreams. Memories seem to come and go. At least , I remember fond memories. Those memories that put a smile on my face and an extra vitality to my walk. How about you ? May you have fond memories😊

Pura Vida

Morning Reflections

In Costa Rica, I seem to reflect more

Especially in the early morn

As the rain softly taps on the window pane

Calling me awake this day

Bringing back memories

Those childhood remembrances of family

Playing basketball in the backyard

Chasing little brother around the yard

Sitting in the shade on hot summer days

Playing monopoly all day

Sipping on cool aid

Laughing as we play

I remember riding my bicycle down our rocky roads

Bouncing to and fro

Holding the handlebars tight

Bouncing up and down on the seat real high

Mom calling us with her whistle

Louder than the sound of a guided missile

Calling us from play

Lunch must be ready

The quiet nights with mom and dad

Watching television, we were Bonanza fans

Those days I wish to remember

Brining back loves ember

The rain pounds more loudly

The skies grays cloudy

Memories fade as the storm strengthen

Lightning and thunder cracking

Fondly, the memories fade

Until I awaken to another day

Author: tmnugent

Poet Author. Living in Costa rica Pura Vida. Love to travel, play with my dogs and write poetry. My girlfriend and I enjoy life and could't be happier living here

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