Fourteen years ago, I gasped audibly, slapped my hands over my mouth, and felt the queasy sting of tears. I had just seen live footage of the south tower of the World Trade Center collapse to the ground in a horrifying explosion. We all remember where we were when we got the terrifying news that…
Book Review
A Word About The “F” Word
To my mother, a first grade teacher for 30 years, every day was an opportunity to make a difference in the life of some squirmy, rag tag, grubby little six-year-old. And cussing, therefore, was out of the question. Other than an occasional cathartic “Damn!” (considered quite proper in her home state of Kentucky) my mother…
Slippery Summer
Back in June, I thought summer was an all you can eat buffet of leisure splayed out before me like a picnic at the park. My mind raced with all that could be done in three whole months. “I’ll spend afternoons lounging at the beach to get that cool surfer look with a peely nose…
Trash, Treasure & Timing
Like most hoarders, I’m in complete denial. I see myself as a “collector” of valuable, interesting, and sentimental things. It all started during childhood, when I felt compelled to stash away objects in an old antique chifferobe my mother saved from a junk pile and made into a girly bookcase for my room, complete with…
What I believe about Hell and hand baskets