A step away from Fridays…
“Happy Friday!” My step aerobics instructor called out his traditional end-of-the-week greeting before beginning the warm-up. And then he added, … Continue reading A step away from Fridays…
“Happy Friday!” My step aerobics instructor called out his traditional end-of-the-week greeting before beginning the warm-up. And then he added, … Continue reading A step away from Fridays…
This year I entered the land of the living and bought a phone that was smarter than me. Similar to … Continue reading A call from the past…
I love ellipses… If you’ve been reading my blog posts for any length of time, you may have noticed I … Continue reading Reading between the dots…
I’m not sure if my son sees only what he wants to see or if he truly doesn’t notice the … Continue reading The quiet of Christmas…
You oughta be in pictures, You’re wonderful to see, You oughta be in pictures, Oh what a hit you would … Continue reading Christmas: Memory vs. photographs…
The answer? To tree. Or bush. My husband will accept either. He just won’t accept “not to tree,” which apparently … Continue reading To tree or not to tree…
This afternoon I delivered the first box of Christmas chocolates — two pounds of caramel brownies, fudge, chocolate peanut butter … Continue reading Last one and done…
As I may have mentioned, this is my weekend for Christmas baking. So why did I say to myself, “Get … Continue reading Domestic A.D.D. …
It was now or never. If I didn’t get the outside Christmas lights up this weekend, I knew I wasn’t … Continue reading Mosquitoes in December and more excuses…
This morning, my 17-year-old son was up before 7, despite having filmed the varsity football semi final and arriving home … Continue reading My mother was right, of course…
“I love you.” “I love you, too,” said my 17-year-old son, just before he opened the car door. “I know.” … Continue reading I love you more…
All my thankfulness went out of Thanksgiving when I started cooking the turkey. The first few years of my marriage, … Continue reading Breast up? I fail at Thanksgiving…
I was a latchkey kid. Daily, my sister and I biked home from school to an empty house, let ourselves … Continue reading How I knew my mother loved me…
I know Cotton (yes, a capital C) calls itself “the fabric of our lives” and has been using that campaign … Continue reading The real fabric of our lives…
Most people call me a saint. Nineteen years ago I married a widow and his four children. At the time, … Continue reading A mere nineteen years ago…
My husband made it a practice of naming his children only after he saw them face to face, and so … Continue reading Focus on my father…
As my siblings and I rifled through my mother’s belongings this weekend, distributing what held value to each one of … Continue reading Praising a woman of excellence…