Last night, I was at a coffeeshop in #hoboken working on my #greatamericannovel when a nice elderly man asked what I was working on. It was so nice of him to ask. I got really excited & told him all about it! When I finally asked him what he thought, I looked over & he was in dreamland. #truestory

Last night, I was at a coffeeshop in #hoboken working on my #greatamericannovel when a nice elderly man asked what I was working on. It was so nice of him to ask. I got really excited & told him all about it! When I finally asked him what he thought, I looked over & he was in dreamland. #truestory

sundayswithmarie
sundayswithmarie:

The past few times I’ve tried to make popcorn, I’ve left the bag in the microwave for (seconds) too long and I’ve burnt my popcorn. It’s a pretty bad smell that makes its way through my apartment building. 2 weeks ago, I came down stairs and my 80-year-old landlady Marie was there looking at me concerned, 
“Did you burn popcorn again last night?” 
I felt guilty and said, “Yes.”
“Adam, you must read the directions. Each brand has different directions. It’s an art, and you can master it if you put your mind to it.”
“Really?”
“Yes, stay in front of the microwave and when the popping slows down, quit while you’re ahead and get the bag out pronto.”
“Okay, Marie.”
“I promise it will be burnt free!”
“I trust you Marie.”
I got home from my trip home to New Hampshire last night, 
and about a half an hour ago, I got back from the gym and Marie was waiting for me. “I got you some meatballs for my boy’s return!”
“Marie, you are the best!” I said as she gave me the Corning Wear full of meatballs and gravy.
“Hold on,” she said and ran back into her apartment. 
When she came back she had a package of popcorn. “Now Adam, these are little bags, don’t cook for more than 1 minutes and 35 seconds. Not a second more.”
“Sounds good, Marie.” I said.
“I will know if you cooked it longer than a minute and 35 seconds, I will be able to smell it.”
“Well, I plan on microwaving the popcorn for 1 minute and 33 seconds.” I said.
Marie smiled, “That’s my boy. You’re a real smarty pants.”
Thank you, Marie!

sundayswithmarie:

The past few times I’ve tried to make popcorn, I’ve left the bag in the microwave for (seconds) too long and I’ve burnt my popcorn. It’s a pretty bad smell that makes its way through my apartment building. 2 weeks ago, I came down stairs and my 80-year-old landlady Marie was there looking at me concerned, 

“Did you burn popcorn again last night?” 

I felt guilty and said, “Yes.”

“Adam, you must read the directions. Each brand has different directions. It’s an art, and you can master it if you put your mind to it.”

“Really?”

“Yes, stay in front of the microwave and when the popping slows down, quit while you’re ahead and get the bag out pronto.”

“Okay, Marie.”

“I promise it will be burnt free!”

“I trust you Marie.”

I got home from my trip home to New Hampshire last night, 

and about a half an hour ago, I got back from the gym and Marie was waiting for me. “I got you some meatballs for my boy’s return!”

“Marie, you are the best!” I said as she gave me the Corning Wear full of meatballs and gravy.

“Hold on,” she said and ran back into her apartment. 

When she came back she had a package of popcorn. “Now Adam, these are little bags, don’t cook for more than 1 minutes and 35 seconds. Not a second more.”

“Sounds good, Marie.” I said.

“I will know if you cooked it longer than a minute and 35 seconds, I will be able to smell it.”

“Well, I plan on microwaving the popcorn for 1 minute and 33 seconds.” I said.

Marie smiled, “That’s my boy. You’re a real smarty pants.”

Thank you, Marie!

sundayswithmarie
MARIE!
sundayswithmarie:

I got up early this morning, 8am! Wow! For a Sunday, that’s super early for me.  I just wanted to get my laundry done before it got too hot out.  I’m embarrassed to say IT WAS A TON OF LAUNDRY! I was out of practically everything. 

I put on my rust colored shorts and began organizing everything. My eighty-year-old Italian landlady Marie heard me going up and down the stairs multiple times with my laundry.  She peeked out of her apartment to see the two full laundry bags and the half of a garbage bag I had.  “Wow!” she said, “Is there a family of ten living with you?” 

I laughed and headed to the laundromat. 

I got back two and a half hours later, the smell of Marie’s homemade Focaccia Bread filled the air in our building. Unpacking all that laundry sure made me hungry. 
Then my phone rang, it was Marie.  “Come down here, laundry boy, you must be all worn out, it’s time to get re-energized with some of my homemade Focaccia Bread.”
My wish came true! 
“Marie, thanks a lot.” I said. “I really appreciate you always making food for me.”
“Of course. Now make sure you go upstairs and fold your clothes nicely, you don’t want any wrinkles. And by the way…” and Marie paused for a moment.
“What is it, Marie?” I asked.
“ Just some fashion advice…”

“Marie, you have fashion advice for me?” I smiled at her.
“Well, yeah, for your own good, don’t wear those rust color shorts besides when you do the laundry. I’m just looking out for you.”

MARIE!

sundayswithmarie:

I got up early this morning, 8am! Wow! For a Sunday, that’s super early for me.  I just wanted to get my laundry done before it got too hot out.  I’m embarrassed to say IT WAS A TON OF LAUNDRY! I was out of practically everything.

I put on my rust colored shorts and began organizing everything. My eighty-year-old Italian landlady Marie heard me going up and down the stairs multiple times with my laundry.  She peeked out of her apartment to see the two full laundry bags and the half of a garbage bag I had.  “Wow!” she said, “Is there a family of ten living with you?”

I laughed and headed to the laundromat.

I got back two and a half hours later, the smell of Marie’s homemade Focaccia Bread filled the air in our building. Unpacking all that laundry sure made me hungry.

Then my phone rang, it was Marie.  “Come down here, laundry boy, you must be all worn out, it’s time to get re-energized with some of my homemade Focaccia Bread.”

My wish came true!

“Marie, thanks a lot.” I said. “I really appreciate you always making food for me.”

“Of course. Now make sure you go upstairs and fold your clothes nicely, you don’t want any wrinkles. And by the way…” and Marie paused for a moment.

“What is it, Marie?” I asked.

“ Just some fashion advice…”

“Marie, you have fashion advice for me?” I smiled at her.

“Well, yeah, for your own good, don’t wear those rust color shorts besides when you do the laundry. I’m just looking out for you.”