Aging Schmaging

The clatter of metal pans, along with the haze of something heated beyond comfort, let me know what was happening in “my” kitchen… my husband was cooking.  I approached the room cautiously hoping to catch him in his hot dish mojo.  As expected, he was flitting from stove, to fridge, to sink.  The counter was buried beneath bags, boxes, bowls,… Read More

His steps were slow, as if lifting bricks instead of shoes, and he leaned just a bit on my brother’s arm. He wore a thin blue jacket and tried his darndest to stand straight and tall like the proud Norwegian of his youth. I stood at the front door watching his progress up the November slicked sidewalk with mixed emotions…. Read More

Taut flesh undulated beneath micro-mini dresses and silky cascades of perfectly coifed hair glistened beneath the spotlights.  A mixed-gendered crowd, watching the show, cheered and hooted. The row of performers, all young women, all with perfect smiles, bent over and then slowly slid their hands up toned legs. They eyed the audience and smiled seductively. As the rhythm of the… Read More