Citizens of Gluttonville want more…

of everything.

or,

Maybe, they don’t, but they’re just programmed to think they do.

Continue reading “Citizens of Gluttonville want more…”

Cuticles, clouds & creativity to the core

As I was flat ironing my teenage daughter’s hair before school this morning, she acknowledged the “HUGE” growth on my right cheek. I think her words were, “You’re right, Mom. That zit IS HUGE!” She said it as if surprised that my description (for once), was totally accurate and perhaps, even understated. I have lovingly named my blemish, “Mt. Hellonacheek.” Continue reading “Cuticles, clouds & creativity to the core”

Cutting, Keeping & Nurturing the Right Ties, Redux

Things have changed since the original post, but the peace really hasn’t.

I originally wrote this blog post a few years ago about my ex-husband and daughters celebrating our wedding anniversary together. Some people found this pretty weird, and others celebrated our vastly improved relationship since we chose to exit our marriage. 

Either way, this is our life and how we choose to live it.  Continue reading “Cutting, Keeping & Nurturing the Right Ties, Redux”

The Wrinkle in Working to Fight Aging

I really love getting older. This is absolute truth. I also have this theory that working so very hard to fight aging, ages a person. Pfft.

Continue reading “The Wrinkle in Working to Fight Aging”

People are Kind

People are kind.

Just now, I took the dog for a walk. It’s chilly, but as usual, I chose not to wear a jacket. One of the things I like about frigid weather in the winter is how alive I feel when the glacial air blasts my face.  Continue reading “People are Kind”

DO NOT Pass-over a Gift to Remember

I never pass-over a chance to remember my grandma.

I miss my grandma. Her name was Faye Lazar, but to me, she was either, “Grandma,” or, “Maca.” (My brother, Philip, couldn’t pronounce the word, “grandma.” He pronounced the word, “maca,” and it stuck. Continue reading “DO NOT Pass-over a Gift to Remember”

Dating Myself, & the Dog Who Doesn’t Beg

I became discerning, but my “man-picker” was still in question. Had my “man-picker” become so picky it was like picking a gnarly scab?

For the better part of the past decade, I have dated myself far more than I’ve dated anyone else. After my departure from my marriage, I made an intentional choice to hang out with myself. I did this for several reasons I was aware of at the time, and some I learned along the way: Continue reading “Dating Myself, & the Dog Who Doesn’t Beg”