“Well doc, I think I might take down the bay leaves, that’s a start. I know it’s not a New Year’s resolution per se, but a whole ‘nother year of looking at them isn’t gonna do me a hill of beans of good. I just can’t look at them up there anymore, ya know?”

“I don’t understand, Flora. What bay leaves?  What about bay leaves?”

“Oh didn’t I tell you? I have a clear little bag of them hanging by the stove and when I’m cooking there you can’t help notice them. Or sitting at my kitchen table. In the old days I always used bay leaves. I mean regularly. So I was always buying them and having to replace them. But this one bag has been up there awhile now. I don’t know how long. Let’s say as long as I can remember okay? So going on years is what I’m saying.”

“And what does that mean to you?”

“Well, I don’t need to keep looking at them and reminding myself of everything. I mean that I don’t even have a reason to even have them anymore. In the old days I cooked for me and whoever was around and there was always activity a lot of people coming and going, right? And I always had a pot of gravy on. Now I hardly ever make gravy.”

“Oh, for like biscuits?”

“No doc, like spaghetti sauce. Gravy, you know. What I’m trying to say is there’s no one around anymore. It’s dead. And to keep seeing those bay leaves is killing me.”
bay leaves


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