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
When the family Dachshund was two, he started pooping in the upstairs hallway. This was not okay with me. I found a dog trainer named Sheila who came to the house and worked with the entire family. That first session was an eye opener. Sheila hooked Wiener’s collar to a leash, and when Wiener snapped… Continue reading Worst/Best Dog Trainer Ever
After Sue became a widow, her adult children were protective of her dating online. They had her send them a profile photo, an address, and phone number for each guy she dated. One of them was an anesthesiologist named Don. Sue’s son’s friend knew Don since he was in the medical field. Sue felt safe… Continue reading The Third Date Rule?
The band room was a freezer. “Vamos a sentarnos en el pasillo, clase.” “What?” “We’ll sit in the hallway today.” It was zero degrees outside. The school district wanted a Spanish class but had no classroom for me. I’d complained a zillion times – when the band teacher held private tuba lessons in his office,… Continue reading A Disco Era Story
First of all, let’s just get this out in the open. It is weird to be a woman of a certain age and to be hit on while waiting for a BART train. As in Bay Area Rapid Transit. He was sitting down when I came up to the platform. I sat down next to… Continue reading Checking Out the Guy Checking You Out
(re-run) It was Labor Day weekend. We needed to get a handle on the mess in the garage. I asked my oldest to watch my youngest while we parents worked outside. She was nine, in 4th grade already for a week, and the baby was almost two and a half. Then a series of unfortunate… Continue reading Popsicles, Light Carpet, and Stitches
(re-run) 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,… Continue reading Fighting for Blue Jeans