I felt Grandma shaking my shoulder, but sleep had a better hold on me.  She persisted until my eyes opened and made contact with hers.  “Get up,” she said. “We need to go to the basement. Now.” A thunderstorm was growling and spitting beyond the safety of the bed blankets, and I sensed Grandma’s growing fear.  Still groggy and coated… Read More

I noted this article today in our local paper, although the author is writing out of Chicago.  The ongoing research and confusion continue to be comfortable bedmates.  I would urge any woman with menopausal questions to find a practitioner she trusts, and from whom she can get an individualized assessment of her symptoms.  Menopause is NOT a disease. It is… Read More

A line of fidgety folks stood before me.  The ticket booth for the Minnesota State Fair was doing hot business after a week of weak sales.  My husband already had his ticket since he would be doing volunteer work later in the day.  Waggling his ticket in the air… safely within the fairgrounds… he waited as I took one slow… Read More

“At what point does a cemetery become meaningful to a person?”   My husband and I were driving back from visiting several family gravesites when he posed the question.  This particular cemetery is in Michigan, and our visits are sporadic at best.  As we walked the grounds and placed bouquets on the headstones there was a sense of peace, but also… Read More

We had a six o’clock appointment with danger.  Adventure.  Reckless driving.  Unfortunately, we were late.  My husband, with the assured confidence of a young Marco Polo, said he knew exactly where we were to go. A smidge of road construction and a dash of detours later and we were looking at a corn field. With the delicate tact of a… Read More

Recently I entered a photo contest on an online forum.  There are no prizes in this competition, just the pride of entering a photograph the artist feels best represents the theme of the week.  The voters, who determine the winner, are members of the forum, not obscure “judges” with even obscurer tastes.  I like that.  I also like the feel… Read More

“Well, that was a moment I never thought I’d have,” I said as my husband and I backed out of the gravel driveway.  I shut off my cellphone and tucked it back in my purse.  “Yeah, he seemed more into taking than giving didn’t he?” my husband responded.  I looked out our car window and watched as the line of… Read More

The Writing On The Wall “Phil’s an A-hole,” was one of the first inked-on-the-wall sentiments I noted as I hung our camping supplies in the shelter on Isle Royale.  “Hey Lover,” I said, “Did you know Phil is an A-hole?”  My husband, confused, said, “Who’s Phil?”  He’s charmingly rational like that. As a rule I’m not a fan of graffiti. … Read More

The tabloids use exclamation points and a bold font:  STARS WITHOUT MAKEUP!  SEE PHOTOS!!!!  I always struggle, as I stand in line at the grocery checkout, as to whether I want to look.  Part of me is curious how the fashion icons appear without the artistry of makeup professionals and airbrushing.  Part of me says, “Why should it matter? Who… Read More

My first thought, upon waking, was someone had murdered a chicken.  Tufts of feathers drifted across the floor with each puff of morning breeze, effectively coating my clothes, my backpack, and my camera equipment.  To be more succinct, anything and everything I didn’t want covered in feathers was now covered in feathers. My husband, amused, claimed he didn’t remember the… Read More

I was having a “feeling frumpy” day.  My hair kept heading off in directions known only to ancient gods and winged animals, my Spanx groaned as I pulled them up and made a snarky comment about “only being able to do so much,” and my freshly painted fingernails, barely dry, hosted multiple dings, smears, and chips.  (Life lesson #76: Don’t… Read More

When you think of a grandmotherly image do you think of a plump and jovial woman scented with cinnamon and sugar, or of an angry, competitive woman manipulating family guilt strings? In a recent advice column, a woman who loved both her mom and her step-mom raised a concerning question.  The woman’s mother and stepmother were loving and kind in… Read More

In the foggy ground between lucidity and sleep, it occurred to me that human life echoes the growing and harvesting of garden tomatoes.  It was an idea that twisted in my head and gave exposure to mounting grief as my father lies, with a grave prognosis, in the VA hospital. In the spring gardeners set out tomato plants and carefully… Read More

The invitations come in all forms…emails, word of mouth, lovely cards, and photo “save the date!” magnets that won’t stick to a stainless steel refrigerator.  Ah yes, this is the season of graduations, weddings, and reunions—family, and “class of.” Recently I attended a celebration where I really didn’t know many people.  Truth be told, the honored person was interested in… Read More

So, it was with a bit of a harrumph and more than a bit of irritation that I signed up for a driver’s refresher course.  Not because I don’t enjoy learning, or in this case re-learning, but it did mean I was old enough to qualify for a 10% insurance discount once I completed the eight-hour class.  I still haven’t… Read More

The destruction was immense, the death toll high.  Well, flower fatalities  that is.  “Whaaaa?” you ask?  About a year ago I caught our dog Booker digging out a sizable planter in what can be modestly described as focused, insane, abandon.  See here as a reminder: Since then, that particular planter has been “revisited” by Booker many times.  After the third… Read More

Grandma handed me a pair of dainty white gloves and tucked a wayward curl behind my ear.  “I just don’t understand why your hair isn’t as nice as your cousin’s,” she clucked with the staccato timing frustration warrants.  I shrugged in response, which once again dislodged the fat sausage curl, and placed the white bonnet on my head.  I knew… Read More

Hanging limp and impotent from our bedroom doorknob, one of my remaining Mylar party balloons looked like a spent rubber cira the disco era.  A huge one, but nonetheless the image came to my somewhat distorted mind.  Attached to the languishing balloon was another Mylar balloon still filled tightly with the hope and promise helium delivers.  I pondered the two… Read More

I love to read the newspaper.  There is something about that ungainly wad of papers that makes me feel like I’m part of the stories.  Often my husband gabs the paper on his way to work and returns with only the Variety section.  He knows my day is happier when I read my favorite cartoon strips, reflect upon my horoscope,… Read More

Have you ever wondered who would come to your funeral?  I have. Not that I’m morbid, but being an introvert and a wallflower makes me think I’ll have an equally quiet final farewell.  Here’s my mental image of the scene: The church as been contacted—probably by my husband– about holding a funeral service for me. After a quick discussion it… Read More

It’s just one more way to work on our relationship on our bed.  Recently my husband and I found ourselves in positions not tried before, breathing hard, and feeling worn out.  He looked at me with a tiny drop of sweat dripping from his brow and said, “Next time you’re near the edge, you go first.” “I’d like to,” I… Read More

Wind frenzied sleet smashed against our windows with an angry hiss while I snuggled into an afghan and gave a resigned sigh. It’s April 14, for freak’n sake.  When will winter move on?  Yesterday the outside temperature struggled into the anemic 30 degree range, but at least the sun shone for abbreviated moments. My husband decided to take advantage of… Read More

The Case tractor spun its tires in the thick spring mud, and then jolted forward with an admirable tenacity.  We weren’t stuck, yet, but the way my oldest brother was driving it seemed likely to happen at any moment.  He was going too fast for the terrain, yet it was his teenage recklessness that made our errand fun.  Hitched behind… Read More

The young girl, maybe three years old, ran down the aisle at church.  She was dressed in Easter finery—more than a bit of sparkle on a puffy pink dress—and she was crying.  The pastor had asked any willing children to come to the front of the church for an Easter story.  The little girl had initially walked up to the… Read More

Crescent shadows of dirt showed beneath ragged fingernails. His fingers were on the short side, tanned, and strong. They were also gentle when it counted. The skin on his hands was rough and landscaped with callouses thickened from hard, punishing work.  I’m thinking of my father’s hands as I write this, and yet realize the same descriptions could fit memories… Read More

It seems never-ending.  “Experts” claim which foods are good for us and which are not.  Wait a short while and, like the weather in Minnesota, it all changes. When I was young my grandmother told me her mom would pack her school lunch in a small bucket.  Mostly it was fresh baked bread smeared with pork lard, and maybe a… Read More

The weather promised rain through the night and into Saturday.  The air felt damp and cold, like a sweatshirt that hasn’t quite dried out after a hard sweat.  Feeling a need to hunker down and bring on an extra dose of comfie, my husband and I poured some wine, curled up on the couch, and popped in a DVD.   We… Read More

One arm was squeezing a grocery bag too tight, the other juggled my car keys, purse, tennis shoes, and a pot of hyacinth bulbs nearing bloom-time.  I had enough wiggle left in my fingers to get the kitchen door open before dropping all of the above in a spectacular mess.  Pudgy (our cat) wisely skittered off before a wayward avocado… Read More

Is aging truly an attitude? What keeps some people vital and active through the decades while others start saying, “I’m too old to do that” in their thirties? On a recent Today Show segment in which an expert on social situations was offering advice, a question from a viewer came in. The viewer was irritated that an elderly neighbor woman… Read More

I felt the image I have of myself crumple as tightly and as ruinously as the wad of paper I tossed at the wastebasket.  I missed the basket, but that is not what brought about the destruction of my self-esteem. It was the content of the letter I had just crushed with fervor.  How is it that a few simple… Read More