The devil is in my house. It came in through a window, like most burglars do, gaining entry to our inner sanctum and stealing my pride without my knowledge or consent.
I live in a creaky old house, sans air conditioning, and am sometimes visited by bats. Better yet, I often choose of my own free will to go camping in an actual tent that involves sleeping ON THE GROUND. Yet, put a hotel room passkey in my hand and suddenly, I’m Princess and the Pea.
My nemesis is small but stealthy. It lurks under the model of health but, in fact, it’s a silent slayer of innocent flesh. I am speaking, of course, of the mandolin slicer.
I was not, as a child, what you would have called a “team player.” Joining things just wasn’t my forte. I did not play softball, volleyball, basketball or field hockey. Imagine my surprise to wake up and find myself a bona fide soccer mom.
Yesterday I got bangs. As any woman knows, this is clearly a cry for help. Unfortunately I was seized by momentary insanity and my best friend (the one who always tells me the truth) wasn’t there to body block the beautician on the basis of this being A Very Bad Idea (capitalized, as all truly […]
I’m not from around here. That’s probably why I got a chuckle when our local village’s Facebook status (yes, we are THAT hip) read “If you are a missing a black cow, we currently have one roaming on Main Street.” Note they said BLACK cow. To differentiate, I suppose, from all the brown cows downtown? […]
I would like to call to order this meeting of the fellow Mean Mothers of America (MMoA). Our first order of business will be to erect a statue (chocolate, of course) to Mark Zuckerberg, Founder of the social networking site, Facebook.
So I just spent maybe eight minutes weeding an area outside my front door and I deeply resent that time as eight minutes of my life that I will never get back. Far from being moved by the beauty of nature, I am annoyed at the tenacious nature of nature. I just cleared those weeds […]
I am not “the outdoor type.” I made clear early on that Mr. Wonderful, an avid athlete and outdoorsman, had made a poor choice in mates. He did not marry anyone even remotely “self-sufficient” or “outdoorsy.”
The graduate. She has deep blue eyes, a gorgeous smile, and her senior class superlative is “prettiest hair.” That makes sense. She does have the prettiest hair. It’s a gorgeous shade of deep, natural red. This was true even when she was mostly bald and later, briefly, when it all sort of fluffed around her head like a vibrant dandelion puff.