Ever since my retired Navy husband, Francis, went on terminal leave, I’ve been having some pretty weird dreams. Nowadays, some prefer to use the label “transition leave” because it sounds a little less like someone is about to die, but no matter whether one uses the ominous traditional term or the newfangled sugarcoated expression, both…
Middle-Age
Shop, Drop, and Enroll
“Three decorative pillows or just two?” my daughter Anna asked in front of a colorful display of bedding at a local Homegoods store. It was 7:00pm, and we had been shopping since the stores opened that morning. The first place we stopped was the Apple Store, where I spent over a thousand bucks in less…
Yard Sale Booty Blues
“I’ll give you thirty bucks for all of it,” the man said in a heavy Rhode Island accent, gesturing to a table heaped with vintage toys from my childhood that I’d decided to sell at a recent neighborhood yard sale. “Are you kidding me?!” I blurted incredulously. “No way!” I continued, “I could get that…
Piped ashore, but still rocking
At 7:55 am Monday morning, the base loudspeakers blared the five-minute warning, alerting us to the upcoming daily broadcast of our National Anthem. I cracked an eyelid, squinting at the bright sun blasting persistently through our closed blinds. With a mop of tangled hair stuck to one side of my forehead, I heaved my torso…
What I believe about Hell and hand baskets