Kathy Brasby Blog
Google Translate Couldn’t Help Us
“What do you think this says?” my husband studied a small box he’d lifted from the shelf at the grocery store. “Do you know any of these words?” We were in a grocery store in Nogales, Mexico many years before Google Translate was available on our phones. Translation...
Slamming Down the Cookie
Have you ever wondered why so many famous chefs are male? Me, too. I should have some insights because I have sons. Let me explain. Back in the day, pushing the beaters into my mixer was guaranteed to bring at least one family member into the kitchen. A lot like the...
This Really Is Food
If I know you and you drop by at mealtime, you’ll get an invitation to sit and eat with us. I really do mean it, but you might want to give it some thought before you jump in. Or ask my nephew because he got to see my work first hand. I had the best of intentions....
Running Like Foofie
Sometimes the worst of duties can trigger the funniest of stories. You know how it is. You had to scoop six inches of snow from your driveway and met your future husband in the process. That didn’t happen to you? Well, another story, another day. This story involves...
Cycling With a Monkey
The hill outside our house was a quarter-mile long, declining at a 45-degree angle. What would you do if you were 14 and had a bike? And a hill? We lived beside a gravel road with the next neighbor a mile away. Our house was at the top of the hill. This hill could...
Discerning Palates
There’s no accounting for personal tastebuds. What my son relishes on his dinner place, my daughter disdains. That’s even true with our chickens. Nothing makes our little flock of chickens giddier than salad-making day because they get the ends of the celery, the...
Almost Kissed the Clouds
The reason the boys were ready for me when I pulled up in the big van was what they held in their hands. “We found these!” Saber unfolded his palm to show me a rubber ball on an elastic band. I’ve seen plenty of rubber balls. I launched a jaded smile, and then he...
The Christmas Pickle
The Gift of A Ski Trip Many years ago, when most of the kids were still at home, we put together a Christmas plan one year: you won’t get much for Christmas gifts, but we’ll go skiing for two days after Christmas, condo and all. The kids bought into this with great...
If a Kid Talks…
Navigating what a child says is sometimes like wandering through a corn maze after dark. It’s a little spooky and easy to mistake a corner for a dead end. Or vice versa. Here are a few examples. This is strictly a no-name and sometimes changed-gender report for...
