This year, my husband, Francis, and I went to a local farm to pick out our Christmas tree together. In 25 years of marriage, there was one year — and only one, so help me God — in which Francis bought a tree without me. It was 2010, and our street on Patch Army Barracks…
women’s empowerment
The Shame on the Shelf
When it comes to trends, I operate on a standard five-to-ten-year delay. Hence, I refer to ink cartridges as “printer ribbons,” I’ve always wanted that hairstyle Jennifer Anniston had on “Friends,” and I still own a pair of dark-washed jeans. So, it’s no surprise that I never picked up on The Elf on the Shelf…
Take a chance on me
My ringtone sounded, right on time. A burning ache gnawed at my stomach, as if acid boiled within. I took a deep breath, and swiped to answer. “Hello?” “Oh, uh, hi! Lisa?” “Yes. Hi, how are you, Ted?” “Great! Great, great … so good to hear from you! Uh, well, I mean, good to talk…
Thanksgiving, Interrupted
And so it begins. No sooner did use my thumbnail to scrape a dribble of turkey gravy off my sweater, than — WHOMP! — the Christmas hoopla hit me like a freight train. On Thanksgiving Day, it was perfectly acceptable, nay encouraged, to laze around all day in a tryptophan-induced haze, gorging myself on the…
