Previously, I was pretty sure that Mr. Wonderful was my Knight in Shining Armor. I know in my heart he’d give up a kidney if I needed one. Then I asked if I could have a wee bit of parking space in his garage and all bets were off.
I realize that in light of tragedies such as war, famine and natural disaster, losing three convenience appliances in the space of three days is a First World Problem to have, but that doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.
People are insufferable. Oh, not taken singularly, of course. One-on-one people are lovely. It’s when they go plural you have problems. If there are any two things that can ruin just about any good time it is “people” and “they.”
So the good news is I won’t die today. Probably. I have been sick for three weeks. Nothing too serious, just a run of the mill wracking full body cough, spiky fever and random swooning. At some point I think my life was in danger. Not due to the illness exactly. I just know that [...]
I was in my house on a quiet Friday night when a dead-ringer for Larry the Cable Guy of stand-up comedy fame came roaring up our driveway in his big white pickup truck looking for a “spit.” This is just about as exciting as it gets on a Friday night around here. “I’m here to [...]
One of the many things that keeps our marriage interesting is that I am a very unpredictable (see also: maddening ) person. Mr. Wonderful, bless his heart, continues to labor under the delusion that much of what I do should make sense. I don’t know if and when he will ever get the hint that [...]
She is sitting on the bench. Her spine straight, her head erect, but her shoulders ever so slightly slump. If you didn’t know her, you’d never see it. If you do know — and love her — you do. On this team, you do time on the bench primarily if you are a girl.
The natural gas utility doesn’t give me the time of day — until they need money. They are like big utility versions of teenagers that way. One minute I’m minding my own business, clam happy in denial of my natural gas needs. The next I am on the receiving end of a phone call saying [...]
I knew this day would come. There are milestones in every child’s life. Birth, roll over, sit up, walk, talk and the “whatever” eye rolls.
Every year it’s like I’m engaged in the annual elusive Christmas toy craze except I’m not looking for a Tickle Me Elmo or pocket pets — I’m looking for pocket brad folders. The latter apparently as extinct as the dodo bird. Plain paper folders are everywhere. You can buy 100 for a dime. Plastic folders [...]
Nothing could dampen our enthusiasm as we kicked off the 11th annual “Cousins and Kids” Summer Road Trip. This annual pilgrimage began many years ago when my cousin and I decided to take ourselves and our respective kids on a little getaway vacation.
At some point even the most wonderful convenience can become more of a hindrance than a help. Mr. Wonderful has had a loathe/hate relationship with his cell phone for some time now. The phone was scratched, hard to dial, harder to hear, and just generally irritated him to no end.
Life is not the way it’s supposed to be, it’s the way it is. The way we cope with it is what makes the difference. — Virginia Satir There’s a joke going around the Internet that in a year with record recession and pure financial devastation for too many (one is too many), in a [...]
Life is not the way it’s supposed to be, it’s the way it is. The way we cope with it is what makes the difference. – Virginia Satir There’s a joke going around the Internet that in a year with record recession and pure financial devastation for too many (one is too many), in a [...]
Life is not the way it’s supposed to be, it’s the way it is. The way we cope with it is what makes the difference. – Virginia Satir There’s a joke going around the Internet that in a year with record recession and pure financial devastation for too many (one is too many), in a [...]
I don’t want to panic anyone but we are almost out of summer. Soon some perky television meteorologist will inform us with malicious glee that the end has come.
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.