We had made our lists and checked them twice. We had removed all extraneous jewelry. We had packed everything in 3 ounce clear travel sizes.
It was 9 balmy degrees. This was up from the low of zero midday.
As the children grow and change I have really enjoyed watching how the interaction between adult and child changes.
I love Christmas. I love the holidays, the happiness, the warm glow of twinkle lights.
The nice thing about marriage is that you have sort of a built in failsafe for those days when even though you love them, you really don’t LIKE your spouse very much.
’Tis the season to snuggle with your smartphone on the sofa.
Every once in a while I receive a note asking about something I wrote about some time ago. This time it was a sweet email asking about how things went with the Summer of Squalor.
I’ve had my smartphone for almost three years (that’s practically a golden anniversary in the tech world), and I have become that person who, when faced with a new challenge or task, says ‘I think I have an app for that.’
I’m a dog lover who doesn’t necessarily always like dogs.
This conversation is about knit pants. Let me repeat that: knit pants.
When you’re not feeling well, use some common sense.
The thing I love about political season is … nothing. Not a single blessed thing. How is this possible?
We’ve all seen — and sometimes shunned — them.
The accident happened, as these things always do, simultaneously fast and oh-so-slow.
You would think someone who loves eating and all things relating to food as much as I do would be nuts about lunch.
Picking ear corn was an historical time.
I like about writing for public consumption. This is opposed to, say, how I started out which was just forcing these missives on my grandmothers who are contractually obligated to find me fascinating.
Ah fall. The season when all of nature attempts to move indoors.