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High School Glad
I recently attended my high school reunion – via Skype! What a blast to the past!
Curb Appeal
My husband and I bought a retiring couple’s home in 1986, intent on renovating the house to match our dreams. Our shared hobby was fix-it, build-it, and decorate-it; I used to tell people that I lived in ‘The Projects’, just to see their reaction – ha!
Others’ reaction didn’t matter; I was/am safe.
My G-G-generation
Clique: a small group of people, with shared interests or other features in common, who spend time together and do not readily allow others to join them.
She smiled and said, “My generation doesn’t do cliques.”
I nearly melted in my shoes.
Better Living through Chemistry
“One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small”…
Who recalls that song opener delivered in the hauntingly soaring voice of Grace Slick? Loved her personna, truly slick and surreal.
Book a Dance with Me
Dance with Me book giveaway deal
The New Circle of Life
Dr. Robin Berman, a UCLA psychiatrist, is making the media rounds in support of her book, Permission to Parent: How to Raise your Child with Love and Limits http://www.amazon.com/Permission-Parent-Raise-Child-Limits/dp/0062277308. As I read some of her articles, with extracted wisdom in well-framed sound bites, I found my head nodding, my soul applauding, with ‘ah-hah’ moments and ‘ta-da’s
Pastime
Then she turned. With that movement I knew the bean pole was a female, for before I’d only seen a closely shaved head atop a plain blanket with sandals on the bare feet. She was swathed in the faded burgundy of a Dalia Lama acolyte.
School’s Out
Recently I uttered a line today in my writers’ group that astonished me in its insightful clarity: “I colored between the lines for twelve years because my father was the principal of the school I attended. Now, in my writing, I color things my way.”
Living Life as a Miracle: backroad towns
My father was buried, gone with the wind, dead from a broken heart. We were on our way to visit with my husband’s family in another Hoosier city, several hours away. We’d then venture to some longterm friends’ cottage on a lake, drowning our grief with good wine.
My husband’s foot was afire on the accelerator, pushing down the pain. We may have been traveling 65 mph in a 25 mph zone…
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