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I need a sympathy card, and once again I am not totally “present” in my trek to the card store - thinking things like how I hate sympathy cards because they sound the way stereotypical funeral directors look: staid, bland, not quite real - because when I come to, here I stand: right smack in [...]

Compliments are tricky.
Give too many too often
And nobody takes you seriously.
Give too few too seldom
and you frighten folks.

Joan Didion in her book The Year of Magical Thinking
does what most of us do after the death of a loved one:
she revisits every conversation,
every word they said
during their last days of life as we know it.
Her husband [...]

This morning I struggle with the seemingly simple question of Do I go to walk this morning or not?. There are mountains of things begging for my attention. I’ve already put a roast on the crockpot, so for supper I just have to fix the side dishes, and I want to go to walk while [...]

Today I go to work with Kipp. Well, not to work as in Take Your Mama to Work Day, not as in go straight into his office and be introduced all around and stand by his desk while he rolls over the chair of Joe who’s out on vacation this week. No, I’m just riding [...]

On the plane a man from India sat next to me. In the middle of 3 seats, me on the coveted aisle seat. I don’t have much luck with men from India. They treat me rudely, horribly rudely, and, I am told, I should not take this personally or as special treatment reserved just for [...]

I love looking at the ocean
I love hearing the ocean
but I hate the sand
and I hate the salt.
I’m not supposed to,
of course.
Who in their right mind
hates being on the beach?
Salt on my fingers
annoys me, too.
I like french fries,
like eating them with my fingers.
I eat a couple
then wipe, wipe, wipe
my fingers
until all the tiny annoying
grains
are gone.
When [...]

If Victoria really does have a secret, I sure do wish she’d share it with me.
One recent wild and crazy evening, I ventured into the local Victoria’s Secret store with my daughter. It’s been years since I was measured for a bra. Decades. Millenniums.
When we were twelve, Pam’s mother interrupted our play time one day [...]