It’s funny how you notice other people’s expectations and how they sometimes don’t align with your own. How they expect you to be available seven nights a week to do stuff. How they expect you to be hungry at regular meal times, even though your schedule is uniquely your own. How they expect you to… Continue reading Expectations
Back in high school in a suburb of Des Moines, Iowa, we did whatever we could to stir up some fun and sometimes some trouble. It was a simple existence: go to school, do homework, think about and look for boys. With no cell phones or social media to organize anything, kids spent a lot… Continue reading Chinese Fire Drills and Other Politically Incorrect Things from my Past
(re-run) I live in a town that backs up to a gorgeous mountain in the middle of an otherwise flat part of the San Francisco Bay Area. Bicyclists come from all over to climb the mountain and then get their joy ride on the way down the winding road. The hiking here is phenomenal, and… Continue reading Interfacing with Nature
Many moons ago, when I was the mother of three young children, my husband (now ex) said, “Let’s remodel the kitchen. I stupidly agreed, not realizing that I would be the one to suffer through six weeks of no kitchen sink and six weeks of feeding my family with no way to cook anything except… Continue reading The Flying Hammer and the Cleaning Lady
The first Women’s March was the next day. Sally went to her friend, Lisa’s, to make a poster for the march. Several women showed up, ready to drink some wine and to think of clever sayings for their signs. Sally already had her slogan: No Uterus – No Opinion. Lisa’s cute little rescue dog, Yogi,… Continue reading Sally’s Downward Dog Disaster
Today’s the day I am supposed to resolve to do better, work harder, exercise more, and eat clean. Guess what? I learned long ago to do things in baby steps. It takes twenty-one days to form a new habit. Sometimes I can do it if I don’t think too hard about it. Like yogurt. I… Continue reading No New Year’s Resolutions for Me
When our daughter came out, covered in dark hair just like her dad, the nurse slapped an i.d. tag on her tiny little foot. For some reason I reached over to read it.