Like many Americans, I resolve to lose weight every New Year. The semantics of my annual pledges may vary — “get fit,” “eat healthy,” “fit into my jeans and still be able to breathe” — and my success rate has been highly unstable. But my motivation is always the same: Rid myself of that stubborn ten pounds of flab that has haunted me since my mid-20s.
writing
Post-holiday mess motivates monkey-business with machinery
I normally find my ShopVac lounging coyly in my laundry room, playing hard-to-get. I tease him out into the kitchen and fondle his attachments, playing the part of the damsel in distress…
Christmas in the Box
He had been gone for eight months. At home, life hovered somewhere between controlled chaos and relative insanity. But the kids and I were fine. We would make it to February, when Francis would return from his yearlong deployment to Djibouti, East Africa…
Holiday head-to-head reveals need for normalcy
“Lilly, wake up!” I whisper-yelled to my sleeping daughter, who looked as if she’d slipped into a coma overnight… Lilly emitted a deep groan, clearly indicating that she’d forgotten the plan: Get up early and be first in line for St. Matthew’s thrift shop Christmas Fair…
