I grew up in a small dairy farm community in southeastern Massachusetts called Rehoboth. Rehoboth is a beautiful pastoral community not terribly far from Foxboro, MA the home of Gillette Stadium and the New England Patriots football team.
Boston sports have been a generational devotional responsibility from my father’s side as far back as I can remember. Currently I am bearing witness to the genetic continuation in my son Daniel. Proud I am.
My Uncle John who was my father’s eldest brother by some twenty years was patient zero. Uncle John was more like a father figure as he was charged to guide and teach my father about hard work, the grocery business and some baseball. Uncle John was the first grocer in our family who knew the art of hard work, dedication to family and had a love affair with baseball. Red Sox baseball most notably…
His wife and my Aunt Mabel who scared me as a child was a strong Italian woman. If my Uncle John wanted to go to Boston to catch a game, she demanded he bring their small children with him. As the story goes Uncle John happily obliged Mabel and could be seen changing nappies in the bleachers while taking in a day game…
My father once held New England Patriot’s season tickets. 4 hopeful seats each season. He pretty much passed away with a broken heart as he missed the success of the Tom Brady years, and his much-beloved Red Sox baseball team won the World Series in 2004 which he may have orchestrated from his seat up above…
My brother Bob and his son Chris carry on the family football tradition of season ticket holders. This weekend well let’s back up a minute and understand this whole season has been magical. The gift of the unexpected is playing in the Super Bowl this weekend. Our young quarter back Drake Maye is all the rage. The curiosity is mystically building…
Who is this young talented QB? Where did he come from? How does a 23-year-old make it to the SB? What is his secret to success at such a young age? I have eagerly watched the interviews and press briefings to learn more myself…
We must ask the questions. Our thirst to know must be quenched. Unearth the special sauce that makes up this young athlete. Understand it. Make it tangible. Recreate it. There must be a formula…
Drake’s wife Ann Michael is gaining nearly as much attention as her QB partner. They are bright and shiny. Wholesome. A delight to watch in this ever-stressful time. She is a baker and much of her Instagram page is dedicated to her new creations, what she is baking for the Patriot players and Drake’s favs. More ingredients to their bubbling success?
The press eager to understand who this athlete is asks rounds of personal questions that have little to do with football but gives us a peek into what makes up Maye. More ingredients…
Questions about his wife Ann Michael. Ranking his favorite baked good that she makes for him. His mom. Who is his hero? We want to know everything about this phenom, and New England sports fans want even more. We have a desire to find the path to greatness. To understand the how and why’s for some. The intrigue is palpable…
Is it about heartstrings? Somewhere around 4 am this morning I was combining ingredients for chocolate chip cookies to be shared at a weekend commitment. I have baked chocolate chip cookies since I was a very young girl. The recipe I have used loyally and with no deviations is on the back of Nestle Toll House chocolate chip yellow package. I have no real “food” claim to fame in my repertoire except the cookies…
They are enjoyed always and complimented with each batch. What is my method? What do I do differently from the instructions on the package? I have been told that others have attempted yet couldn’t duplicate mine. Truly I do nothing differently. Moments and special memories really seem to be the secret sauce behind the chocolate chip cookies. Childhood memories of snowstorm treats. Beach picnics. Family gatherings and running group refreshments. Heart strings…
A favorite painting instructor who became my most trusted advisor for many years and dear friend too. I told Wilbur that I was offered a teaching position when I was living in Massachusetts as I wanted his thoughts. I was surprised at his response because he was an extraordinary teacher and artist. “Why do you want to teach others what you do?” I paused and thought about the sharing of the secret sauce. Mine is a modest talent that I have shared with several students over the years and have loved the opportunity but knowing myself I imagine I have kept an ingredient or two to myself and in Wilbur’s honor…
Dinner with five fabulous women the other night at my dear friend’s home was an unexpected mid-week invite. Greeted by my favorite chocolate lab who excitedly “porpoised” around me. The welcome set a warm tone for the evening to follow…
I arrived first and settled into an easy conversation with my friend. Rapid fire chatter filled the air as if we hadn’t seen each other in many years instead of hours. The rest followed and I was introduced to those I had not yet locally met. The group new to me as I am introvertedly in my studio and seldom break bread with others…
We covered many standard fare topics. Where do you live? Where did you relocate from? How long ago? Children? Grandchildren? All welcome topics but I especially enjoyed the unexpected ones. We settled into our seats at the table and the conversation flowed as easily as the dishes that were passed around…
One new friend mentioned how her adult child goes through her cupboards when visiting and analyzes her inventory of expired food. We all laughed familiarly. Another mentioned her medicine supply getting sorted and tossed. True confessions became the main course while we tucked into our food. I was anxiously thinking about what expired products might reside in my spice cabinet or pantry. I was certain I had rid my refrigerator of the burden of housing expired items, but all bets are off for the back of my pantry…
I loved every moment as we each shared our stories. This unflinching group of smart and accomplished women had already tossed out any expired worry regarding what holds little import. Each one of us has been knicked and dinged by life including some full-on total collisions. There was little concern about thoughts of a cylinder of cinnamon which may have expired in 2022. Still usable. The stamped date on a product will need to take a humorous backseat as we currently and more importantly face our own process of expiration…
The guest of honor was laughter. We all hailed from different places and brought to the table a potpourri of experience. Over the years we each had done our own individual sorting and cleansing but for the remaining items that are bound to occur I felt in good hands as I looked around the table…
“The Secret Sauce Is YOU!”― Swati Sharma
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