Does enough exist? Is there ever enough time, money, sleep, love, faith, justice, energy or peace for us? Why does it feel like we are always lacking in these and other areas of our lives?
My grandmother was a farm wife during the Dust Bowl of the Great Depression. For the rest of her life, she was meticulous
about not wasting food. She wouldn’t use a vegetable peeler on potatoes or carrots because she could remove less peel using a knife.