My husband is a pig. I’m anal. It’s a happy marriage, but for these two facts. I can’t sit in a room if there’s a pair of socks on the floor. My husband can’t sit in a room without leaving his socks on the floor. It’s why we often watch TV in two separate… Read More Getting Dirty
The word was out. Renee Dyer was the one to tell me — find a four leaf clover and you’ll have good luck. She claimed the day after she found one, her mom bought her a Barbie townhouse. I wanted a Barbie townhouse…and white go-go boots — the patent “leather” kind with stretchy laces up… Read More The Luck of the Irish-ish
It’s early January and my paperwhites have just opened. My friend Beth said that I should plant them to bloom after the holidays. I say, she nailed it. Once the tree is down and the twinkle lights are unplugged, winter becomes a daunting test of emotional fitness. But now I have these cheery, little… Read More Paperwhite Therapy
Check out my Clematis. It just started blooming the other day. I’m from the midwest so I say “Clem-aaaatis.” Martha Stewart, on the other hand, says “Klehhhm – atis.” But my friend’s neighbor once said to her (true story), “Did you see my Clitoris out on my mailbox? Isn’t it beautiful?” I don’t know about… Read More Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off
I don’t normally like to be alone. I’ve been that way as long as I can remember. It’s made for some whiny and desperate moments that made boyfriends run and girlfriends sigh. But as any mother knows, having kids changes everything. This weekend, my husband’s family was having a birthday party at a cottage two… Read More The Fastest Post I Have Ever Written Because I Have Other Things To Do
Things are getting weird around me. At first there were a few isolated incidences, but enough of them have accumulated that I’m starting to notice a trend. I think something might be amuck. Consider a small sampling – At a birthday party, a mother from my daughter’s kindergarten class confided in me about her divorce.… Read More Could it Be?
When we first moved here, I didn’t know what a Hosta was. My new neighbor, Karen, told me. That first spring, still stunned by the loss of my career, I looked out at my new yard and felt helpless and stupid. I was lonely, bored and completely overwhelmed with all the little green shoots popping up, taunting… Read More A Tale of Two Gardens
Small Town. Small Times. 