Tuesday, February 25, 2020

Apparently, my children are attending spy school. That is the only explanation for why I, the consummate prying parent, am so completely in the dark about what it is they DO all day.
reading glasses and pill cases

Kymberly Foster Seabolt swears it takes a strict diet and a team of medical and fitness professionals to keep her feeling half as good as she did at 20.

Here in the Midwest it is fair season. County fairs are gearing up, winding down, and whirling along.

From the moment I held my firstborn son in my arms, I realized, almost instantaneously, that this wild, wonderful, unpredictably joyous journey I had only just begun would, in the blink of a moment, lead to my own planned obsolescence.

Let's just smile and sing along to the Christmas carols (in November) and allow our one relaxing, stealth holiday to stay OUT of the commercial limelight, but remain warm in our hearts.

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...

I was probably thinking about boots when the white SUV pulled out.

My son, at 12, is no longer a willing wearer of a pointy party hat. He has no need for noisemakers. No yen for...

Journey came on the radio. Don’t Stop Believin’. You get me, Steve Perry. You really get me.

The same people that I once fervently hoped would mind their own business are the people I hope most will help mind mine today.