I like to think of myself as a dedicated runner. I also like to think of myself as a six-foot tall redheaded showgirl, so we can see where this is going.
It’s National Library Week! Go kiss a librarian. Or not--s/he might not appreciate being smooched at the circulation desk. Maybe we should take them cupcakes. Or hug it out. Or both.
It’s often noted that today’s young people don’t have a strong sense of patriotism like their parents and grandparents did.
Did you hear about the “crazy ants” infesting Texas, Louisiana, Florida and Mississippi?
There are two things I fear: 1) Dying and 2) Being embarrassed. And there’s a difference between looking foolish and feeling stupid.
I have a headache. I never get headaches; in 53 years I’ve had maybe three. I just don’t get them. (My husband says I give them—hardeeharhar!)
One day I’m going to write a book called “Things My Husband Says.” Chapters will be divided by topics, such as “Food,” “Wife’s Hair,” “Forrest Gump,” and “Best Friends” (which is not about me.)
If you’re around me for longer than 15 minutes, you’ll notice I say “What?” a lot. Also, “Excuse me?” or “Pardon” or “Huh?” As a last resort I say, “I wear two hearing aids and it sounds like you’re asking me to feed your hamster in Fuji.”
Sometimes when I sit down to open a vein — I mean, write a column — my mind is skittering all over the place and I can’t decide on a topic. So today you get mind skitter stuff.
It was interesting to read the recent Berkeley Independent headline that stated “County Council Power Shift Tops 2013 News.”
Random thoughts while trying to select new bathroom wallpaper and feeling stabby:
There is one word that will strike fear and horror into the hearts of any parent.
I’m sitting here trying to decide about what to write.
Most of us have probably seen “The Peaceable Kingdom,” painted by 19th century American folk artist (and devout Quaker) Edward Hicks. He painted at …
Surgery is a funny thing. They put you to sleep, cut you open, sew you up and hold you hostage.
It occurred to me this past May, after a visit with my now 19-month-old granddaughter who is being held hostage by her parents in the far off land of Oregon, that if I wanted to spend more time with her, I’d have to be unemployed to do it.
The season of the light is upon us - a time of year that provides us with an opportunity to reflect on what we have as well as focus on how we can make life better for others who may not be as fortunate.
Yo, ho, here’s Christmas! I hope your day is filled with joy. Whether you woke up surrounded by people or with a cat purring on your chest, please know that you are loved.
Clement Clarke Moore wrote the poem “Twas the Night Before Christmas” in 1822. With Christmas morning in your rearview mirror, here’s my version. A “What If” take, such as What if Santa left one kid in all the world nothing but clothes under the Christmas tree on Christmas morning and this event was then memorialized in a poem?
I love Christmas. It’s the shopping and the crowds and the stress that set my teeth on edge.
Thanksgiving is almost upon us. I could fill this space with last-minute, delicious recipes for your holiday table, but we’d all die laughing at that. (My favorite collection of recipes is Peg Bracken’s “I Hate to Cook Book.”)
I’ve been thinking about TV a lot lately, mainly because I never watch it. Apparently that makes me strange. (Which surprises no one.)
You can blame this on last week’s time change.
When I can’t sleep I track the news, which is why today I can offer you some incredibly dumb developments in the world. (I’m sure Miley Cyrus stuck her tongue out and Obamacare is still broken, but Ima let those slide.)
Last week my mother turned 85. Not bad for a woman who thinks a balanced meal is a Little Debbie in each hand.
A couple of years ago a movie came out called Waiting for Superman. It was about how education in this country is broken and too many of us are simply waiting for a Superman to come flying out of the sky to fix it for us.