"Norm!"

 

         We love eating out. Our weekly budget allocates one eat out per week unless we do an extraordinarily thrifty grocery run. Then we can manage another visit to one of our favorite places.

         Over the years, we’ve two places that we’ll visit weekly. Alternating between Greek food at Papouli’s Greek Grill and Mexican food at La Fiesta Patio Café. Our frequent visits mean we earn free meals from both places, allowing us to indulge even more.

         At one point, the owner of Papouli’s would try new menu items with my son and husband offering feedback. He’s helped us celebrate birthdays and anniversaries. We’ve even catered Christmas dinner because, you know, not everyone likes turkey!

         Last night, upon entering La Fiesta Patio Café (Patio Café in our house), the entire staff cheered and waved. All three of us broke into laughter and simultaneously chimed, “Norm!” as we approached our table for three. The waitress carried over our drinks, chips and salsa but didn’t bother with a menu. She knew we’ve memorized everything on their list. Sometimes, all three of us crave their veggie chalupas and will order the same meal. Today found us yearning for different things.

         Many evenings, the staff will amble over to chat with us about movies or their weekend plans if the place isn’t too busy. We’ve slipped into the habit of looking forward to the company as well as the food.

        

 Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

        Our favorite Mexican restaurant closed its doors a few weeks ago. This year keeps hitting us with losses that remind me of the importance of treasuring traditions. Our table for three no longer awaits us. The staff that helped us celebrate special days, and also just a simple weekely eat-out, no longer lightens our days. Papoul's Greek Grill still ramains, but we worry that this tough economy with irresponsible political decisions and tariffs will overwhelm this restaurant, too. For us, our own spending habits have tightened up to absorb the higher grocery bills we're experiencing. I fret that soon, we won't have special places that greet us like Norm. 

Coppyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman      

        

  

“Look, Look!”

 

 

             A deluge last night dumped five inches of rain at our home!
        As soon as our cloudy morning allowed, I grabbed my iPhone for the first round of pictures. By tomorrow, the drenched clover out front, along with various plants and flowering bushes, should burst into even more color. Nature’s renewal cleansed my flagging spirit.
            I am sad.
            I am hurt.
            I am frustrated.
            I am anxious.
            I am lost.
          Yet one night of thunder and lightning, of rain washing away the sins of the world, fills my soul with hope again.

 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

"Who Hurt You?"

 

Your protective barrier blocks your humanity
It defends your liberties by oppressing those you fear
It allows you to shriek, “Unfair! Unfair!” while your child dies alone
It enfolds you within your fake holiness
It weaves your soul into heartless cruelty
 
Who made you so scared all the time?
Who betrayed your wants and needs?
Who cheated and broke your heart?
Who corrupted your compassion?
Who hurt you?
 

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

 

"The Litany"

 

"I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.” 

Frank Herbert--Dune

          When in my twenties, I carried this litany from Dune in my wallet. Faced with living alone for the first time in a new place while attending college, my personal anxieties dogged me. On bad days while riding the shuttle to early morning classes, I would whisper these words. When I worried that I wasn’t as smart as everyone else thought, this recitation calmed my soul.

          When in my thirties, I carried this litany (now worn and faded) as solace whenever I felt I failed as a wife, mother, daughter or sister. The dread of not measuring up to the expectations of my principals or peers wrapped me into doubts that eased if I chanted this invocation. 

          When in my forties, my father died. The world tilted. I faced one of my worst fears and survived. Somehow, carrying the little scrap of paper seem unnecessary. The words, permanently etched in memory, offered comfort and soothed my grief. 

          When in my fifties, my life narrowed down into the nightmares of my mother’s Huntington’s disease. Every day filled with uncertainties as I dealt with the horrific symptoms of this disorder. To be honest, I hid from many of my fears. I wasted energy running away from them. I forgot the power of permitting them “to pass over me and through me.” 

          Now I begin my sixties. And I need to carry these assurances with me once again. I’m printing them out on a crisply new piece of paper and folding them into my wallet. Although committed to memory forty years ago, I need them to be concretely within my grasp. I face a different challenge today as a madman dictates our political reality. I must not let his mental illness paralyze my ability to reason and resist.

Copyright 2018 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman

“Propagation Progress"

Swedish Ivy growing strong!

 

            Two weeks ago, I pinched back Swedish Ivy, Pothos and jade to add to my outdoor plants. The Swedish Ivy, floating in a mason jar doused daily with morning light, grew quickly. I moved it yesterday into its own hanging basket. As the “momma” plant’s growth during the same period dangled new tendrils, I harvested them for another round of rooting in water.
            My Pothos sits on the dining room table where I check it daily for roots to signal they need transplanting into soil. I predict these cuttings will need into next week before they get their own pot. Grandmother’s crystal vase, which I use constantly for propagating Pothos, will receive a new clipping after I transfer its Pothos into soil today.
            The jade, pinched back and allowed to form a callus, sits outside already in tiny new pots. Establishing these transplants takes more time as jade has a slow growing attitude. However, my original plants show healthy progress with new, small promising buds.

Slow growing jade shows progress!

Copyright 2025 Elizabeth Abrams Chapman