This was my little man, Sam. If you look closely, you can see fur peeking out from between his toes, a sure sign he was a house puppy, which was fine with me. Being an indoor dog made it easier for me to give him hugs, rub his soft silky ears and tell him how much he was loved and adored.
Sam captured our hearts the second we saw him. James said Sam was the only dog he knew who’d read and memorized the “Puppy Handbook.”
There aren’t many things cuter than a soft, snuggly puppy who nuzzles your neck and whispers, “Adopt me! Adopt me!” Adopting one puppy is a good thing, but two? When I asked my girlfriends why they didn’t stop me, they said, “You’ve always had dogs, so we figured you knew what you were getting into.” Yes, but never puppies! When I was younger and the same friends started having babies, I didn’t understand the degree to which their lives had changed, overnight, but now… That’s me!
I also have postpartum depression, and I didn’t even give birth!
My granddaughter is 17-years-old and a new, high school senior. Just a few years ago she was teased and came home from school sobbing. I couldn’t help but wonder where fifth-grade little girls learned to be so mean, and if those same girls are as cruel, now that they’re nearly adults?
I STILL haven't unpacked my photos, so I don't have one of my grandmother. This is me, a few years older than when I "axed Mamie's floor!"
One of my earliest memories is sitting in a pool of Wesson Oil, smacking my hands on the linoleum floor my grandmother had just waxed. When my grandmother, I called her Mamie, told me this story, she said she walked into her kitchen to see me smearing Wesson Oil around with my hands and saying, “Axing Mamie’s floors! I’m axing Mamie’s floors!”
I’ve been thinking a lot about my grandmother, wishing I could tell her how much I admired her strength and thank her for being my role model.
We’d only been in our motor home ten days when I packed a bag and hopped on Southwest Airlines for my second, annual, sister’s reunion. Continue Reading
@Photos by Brenda Ray Coffee
This morning a television at the gym flashed a picture of Michael Irvin, former wide receiver for the Dallas Cowboys, wearing his number 88 uniform. It reminded me of when I was a young photographer for the San Antonio Light and covered the Cowboy home games from the sidelines. I had a mad, mad, insanely mad, schoolgirl crush on another number 88, Cowboy wide receiver, Drew Pearson.
Is it considered cheating to have a serious crush on someone other than your husband?
From "Girlfriends of a Certain Age," ©Ramborella LLC
A lot of people ask me how I decided to start 1010ParkPlace. For over 10 years I was focused on my breast cancer, my subsequent Top Breast Cancer Blog and the unexpected death of my husband. Not surprisingly there came a time when I didn’t want to write about cancer anymore. During a conversation with a friend, he asked what I really wanted to do with my life? My answer came tumbling out.
“I want to connect with women about more than cancer.”
Recently I attended an event for the purpose of networking with attendees from three, different, women’s entrepreneur groups. It was at a coffee shop in the city and started at 7:30 a.m.
I’m still not sure what enticed me out of my suburban comfort zone at that hour. I am not a morning person. Continue Reading
It’s every woman’s lament at one point or another. But this time, it’s not about my clothes, and it’s true. I feel a little bit ridiculous. No… a lot ridiculous, ever thinking we were in good shape. Over thinking I had everything under control, over how many trips I took to the thrift store. I’ve decided the thrift store visits were my philanthropy for this year. And even after all of the prep work, I’m shocked at how much stuff we still have that has no place to live. Our coach looks like something from the television show “Hoarders.”
To use one of George W. Bush’s best words, “I think we have sorely misunderestimated how much stuff we could bring!”