(re-run) A morning sunrise, skies streaked pink and blue. A warm dog cuddled under the afghan throw as I read a book. A hot cup of fake mocha coffee and a Madeleine cookie. A bunch of texts from an adult child 3000 miles away. A photo of my smiling grandson in his high chair. The… Continue reading It’s the Little Things
Category: memoir
Stuck in Suburbia
My first dog, Pepper, eats breakfast, waits through Zumba for her walk, takes a nap, gets up for supper, and then takes another nap. She runs outside to bark at the neighbors’ dog and the dogs in the park, sometimes eating the fence. But other than that, she is a contented dog in Suburbia. Then… Continue reading Stuck in Suburbia
Creative People Make Messes
(re-run) If you’re an orderly person like Monk on the TV show of the same name, this column is not for you. You crave things in place, all the time. Otherwise, you get agitated. The other side of the coin is the person who is so busy creating that he/she doesn’t notice the mess. When… Continue reading Creative People Make Messes
The Road Not Taken
GPS is a wonderful thing. I didn’t choose it; it chose me, being included with the 2014 Prius close-out car that I bought in November of that year. It was time to make way for the 2015 models. It was marked down. I bought it. If I’m coming back from a new place with GPS… Continue reading The Road Not Taken
Bricks, Ricks, & Cardboard
(re-run) The college mixer was hosted by the men of Lorch House in Friley Hall, in the heart of the Iowa State University campus. Tappan House, the top two floors of Barton Hall, was invited. Yes, I am old. Yes, dorm floors are co-ed now. This was in the days of the dinosaurs, girl dinosaurs… Continue reading Bricks, Ricks, & Cardboard
Late-night Loser
(re-run) I met a guy at a dance. We emailed each other for a week (before texting). We decided to meet at Bing Crosby’s. I took a seat at the bar, and asked for water. After all, I’d had two glasses of wine already, waiting for him to get off work at the TV station… Continue reading Late-night Loser
Male Egos ‘R’ Us
Decades ago, when I was the mother of a two-year-old girl and hugely pregnant with another child, our little family took a Sunday drive down to Dublin to visit the toy store. I was lost in a world of motherhood, tolerating acid-inducing fetal kicks and not paying attention to what was happening outside of our… Continue reading Male Egos ‘R’ Us
The Crappy or Happy Post
(re-run) Life is a balance. Not everything can go your way all the time. Sometimes it seems as though everything is going against you. The last seven days have been full of ups and downs. As long as there is one happy for every one or two crappies, I can muddle through. It’s nice to… Continue reading The Crappy or Happy Post
Bomb Shelter Blues
(re-run) My childhood house on 69th Street in a suburb of Des Moines, Iowa, had a big bump in the backyard. It’s where my grandfather built a fall-out shelter that connected to our basement. It was during the Cold War, and thoughts of atomic bombs being dropped on us was enough to motivate him to… Continue reading Bomb Shelter Blues
Reflections on a Retired Thursday
(RE-RUN) You’d think retired people have seven days a week to reflect on their past lives. Not so, Smokey Joe. There was chorus, plus a COVID booster shot on Tuesday which produced a huge headache. “Take Tylenol,” my adult child who lives down the hall said. “No, you’re supposed to let the vaccine do its… Continue reading Reflections on a Retired Thursday
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 