Good, bad or outrageous, my life has been about as normal as picking blueberries on Mars. After reading my blog posts over the years, many of you have urged me to write a book. I took your suggestions to heart, and New Years Day, I began writing a memoir. Even though I’m a writer, and I have an outline, writing a memoir is difficult. We all have a story to tell, but writing a book can be overwhelming. What if you had a simple template that made writing easy and had places for photos? And when you’re done, you’d have a finished, printed book?
Would that encourage you to write your story?
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
We drove to Madrid (pronounced Mad-Rid) to see dear friends for Thanksgiving and to take our first long-distance trip in our motor home. We also wanted to decompress from daily life in Austin, Texas, a city that continues to grow by leaps and bounds. Continue Reading
When the Mr. and I were looking for a house to accommodate our blending families, I wanted there to be a gas stove. My last house had an electric one and I said, never again.
Of course when one is looking for a home in a leafy suburb that will accommodate five kids and three pets within a certain budget in a housing boom, one doesn’t always get everything one’s heart desires. So we ended up with a staircase to rival Alexis Carrington’s, a dated dark wood kitchen with Baltic brown counters, and an electric stove. Continue Reading
Last night I slept 14 hours. It’s now late afternoon, and I just awoke from a three-hour nap. I still feel like I could crawl into bed and crank out another eight or nine hours of deep REM before facing another day. No, I don’t have the flu, or narcolepsy, or a colossal hangover, but I have been serving as mother/hostess to a bevy of late teens and 20-somethings over a V-E-R-Y L-O-N-G holiday weekend. Continue Reading
Sisters. I’ve been thinking a lot about sisters recently and pining for one of my own. “Be careful what you wish for,” cautions a friend who can barely be in the same room as her younger sister before one of them erupts with age-old resentments. But as the years pass, and I relinquish my lifelong quest for a strong mother-replacement for the faulty one I was paired with, I yearn for another woman to share deeply the journey of aging.
I have acquired lots of “sisters” along the way; women who are so good, so kind, and so supportive. Continue Reading
For the last several years, I’ve lived in a house with my son, my daughter and a small French bulldog. Girls outnumbered boys 3:1. In re-partnering, I’ve added four guys and two male pets to the household. Boys outnumber girls 7:3.