Soft guitar strains tumbled on the breeze and landed in melodious plop, plop, plops over suits and dresses. The small group of attendees coughed, whispered, and shifted in varies levels of discomfort as they waited for the bride to appear at the top of the stairs. My niece—in her early thirties and unmarried—was seated directly in front of me offering… Read More
Thank you
There is an insecurity to being a writer. The words come forth in similar fashion to the babies I have had the privilege to birth…with much pain and occasional screaming. To have you tell me you like what I do, to keep going, and to keep being my quirky self, is an exceptional thing. It is with humble toe-in-the-sand happiness… Read More
Insane laughter…
When I was in Chengdu, China, my friend Dianne and I took a taxi from the grocery store to our hotel. We weren’t being lazy; we had a lot of bags to carry. The cab driver was listening to some sort of comedy show on his radio, but since it was in Chinese we couldn’t understand anything being said. After… Read More
Rethinking “old” behaviors…
Two incidents came into view this week that concern our cultural perceptions of aging, behavior, and limitations. Both stories were meant to be humorous examples of old people acting inappropriately. But who decides the definition of “old,” and who decides what is inappropriate? The first story was in the Minneapolis Star Tribune newspaper under the “News of the Weird” column…. Read More
Flip flops…
My husband was watching me as we walked Booker this morning. It was an unusually warm morning for October and I was wearing flip flops. Part of me wanted to pretend it was still summer, but the other part of me was being lazy. It’s easier to slide on flip flops than to put on socks and shoes. Oh, the… Read More
The beard of wonder…
Booker, in the midst of an exuberant puppy leap, tackled a milkweed plant. The plant’s pod, which had been swaying in the breeze, burst open and released its fluffy down-like seeds to the world. Booker pounced again, took a bite, and shook his head in a killing frenzy. When he lifted his face it looked like he had a white… Read More
Hat trick…
My husband and I were driving Booker to the paved trail near town for a good run. Now, before you get all snippy and say, “Why didn’t you just run him to the trail?” I’ll just say we live miles from the trail and it would require going through traffic situations we don’t care to bring a dog through on… Read More
Ready, set, stay!
A reader asked me to write about the end of life paperwork my husband has been getting together “just in case.” Here are some of the general items we have lined up to make the surviving spouse’s situation a bit easier: There is a list of names, addresses, and contact numbers. Somebody will need to get in touch with… Read More
The jean wiggle…
I don’t know about other women, but I tend to decide where I’m at on the chubby scale by how my clothes fit. I refuse to step on the actual scale and actually know what I weigh because I don’t want certain numbers flitting around in my head causing pain and guilt. Hey, it’s my reality! Today I pulled out… Read More
Deer Crossing…
One of my teachers told a story in class that has meaning to me. My teacher’s friend—I’ll call her Ann—was testing the faith waters. Ann felt somewhat alone in this world, and scoffed at the notion of a greater power interacting with her life. “If there is someone out there show me a sign and I’ll believe,” she said. “I’m… Read More
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