When you’re in the dog house, you are in trouble. You’ve done something bad. As a child, I was never in the dog house because we didn’t have one. We didn’t even have a dog. My mother had her own strain of weird expressions that she said to us kids on a regular basis, probably… Continue reading The Day I Found my Voice
Then it dawned on her that Eric might actually live in his BMW.
My childhood friend from Iowa called the other day. As we were comparing notes about our dysfunctional childhood households (hers with physical abuse, mine verbal), she mentioned the immigrant caravan at the border. “What are going to do about that?” she said. “Let in the women and children,” I said. “I’m not sure about the… Continue reading The Benefits of a Hard Childhood
Donna met a guy named George through a group of friends. She was about to have open heart surgery, so she didn’t feel much like flirting. George was average looking but persistent. He kept texting her before and after the surgery. She thought he was into her, but then he insisted that she call him.… Continue reading A Tongue Twister
We had already hit two thrift stores and were heading for a third. Then I remembered that Vickie wanted to go to the ones in Carmel. I turned onto Forest Avenue and took the winding highway 68 through the Monterey pines. It would lead to the new roundabout that would send the traffic north to… Continue reading Shop Till You Drop
I used to be good at remembering people’s names and remembering to use coupons before they expired. Now I am lucky if I can find the coupon when I am at the store. Today, at CVS, I checked out and was given a long receipt with $6.00 of extra bucks on it. My new rule… Continue reading Memories Light the Corners of my Mind
I laughed out loud. I had joked about a getting a pit bull, and the universe had dropped two of them in my path.