They met online through a singles website (not the swiping one). Tom lived and worked in Napa. Carin lived less than an hour away in the San Francisco East Bay on a horse ranch with her seven horses. She ran a small upscale hair salon. After much texting and talking, they got together for dinner… Continue reading Mr. No Class
Category: mom
Government Cheese and Pinto Beans
(re-run) I was nine or ten when our mom took me and my younger siblings downtown to a place to get some free food for poor people. Our dad was out of work for six weeks. My mother was humiliated. We waited in line until it was our turn. As the worker handed Mom her… Continue reading Government Cheese and Pinto Beans
A is for Air
If a bluebird ski day is one without a cloud in the sky, then a dog-bird (bird-dog?) day is one where you can open all of your windows and air the doggy smell right out of your (my) house. All that stale winter air that has been recycling through my closed-up house during rain storm… Continue reading A is for Air
Worst Thanksgiving Eve Ever
I had to go to the doctor’s office the day before Thanksgiving. My finger was infected. I was lucky to get an appointment. I had eleven people coming for dinner the next day. I had no sitter and no luck of getting one, and no local relatives, so I loaded the three kids in the… Continue reading Worst Thanksgiving Eve Ever
Almost Toast
(re-run) Marlene and her friend Beth came out to California from New Hampshire after college to work for Bank of America. They each made a new friend, and each new friend brought another friend to the party (plus one more) until they were a group of seven recent college graduates, living in the city of… Continue reading Almost Toast
A Grungy Sponge Story
If a person had a rental unit near the beach and let her friends use it as a discounted rate, and one of those friends liked to clean everything with one grungy sponge, and then she left it under the kitchen sink, can you guess what would happen after that? The next friend came down… Continue reading A Grungy Sponge Story
The Racist, the Ficus Tree, and my Garage Sale
(re-run) When I was six, the one black boy in my elementary school was in my class. His name was Teddy. This was white-white-white Iowa in the 60s. My first grade teacher, Mrs. Van Cura, got angry at the class one day for misbehaving and said, “Whoever doesn’t behave will have to play with Teddy… Continue reading The Racist, the Ficus Tree, and my Garage Sale
Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery
(re-run) When I was in high school and bought some of my clothes at the DAV (Disabled American Vets) thrift store, they called me quirky. When I made a cool pair of bell bottom jeans out of my dad’s old work pants, they called me quirky, but they also asked me where I got them.… Continue reading Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Flattery
Street Dance
(re-run) After hiking six miles with the senior group called DASH, which does not dash at all, but rather hikes slowly through the woods with plenty of stops for bathroom breaks, snack breaks, or count-up-and-regroup breaks, I was too pooped to go out dancing. But my friends were going, it was close (just one town… Continue reading Street Dance
Barbies or a Boyfriend?
(re-run) Facebook has done it again. When I think I have no ideas for a new blog post, a Facebook exchange with a stranger will remind me of something in my past to write about. The post was a Ukranian girl sitting in a window, holding a weapon. The caption said, “While American tweens are… Continue reading Barbies or a Boyfriend?
FIRST DATE, WORST DATE EVER! 