Several times a week I take a nice long walk with my cuz and my doggy nephew. He’s really my cousin too, but I like being Aunt Karen. So it’s been decided. Strolling the neighborhood, our conversations take many different paths. We reflect on the profound and ponder the meaningful and then easily segue into […]
Feeling a little poopy? A little droopy? Mopish? Bummed out? Weighed down? Unmotivated? Down in the dumps? ME TOO. And this “state of mind”, being the thief that it is, has STOLEN MY MOJO and I WANT IT BACK!! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH IS ENOUGH. But, I ask you, what’s a person to do? SOS. Yoo-hoo… Anybody at
I remember my sweet dad sharing bedtime stories he lovingly created while blissfully listening to the deep timber of his voice resonating as I lay upon his chest. With fuzzy hairs peeking out from his V-neck tee, his chest meant comfort and tenderness and fatherly love. As teenagers we had a range of ideas of
My day began just like the one before. And the one before that. And yup the one before that. Hermetically sealed, insulated, safeguarded – that’s me! Being tucked away, all those viral spritzings are unable to reach me. I feel impenetrable. However, unlike the day before and the days before that AND the WEEKS before
(okay, OK…MY mind needs to know) I one hundred per cent believed in the Easter Bunny. With that in mind, I came to expect that a basketful of goodies would be left on the hearth of our fireplace come Easter Sunday. According to me, the EB evidently entered ones home by way of the chimney.
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So my husband did a thing. A rather BIG thing. A thing where a surgeon opened up his chest, reached INSIDE with his surgeon hand and stopped his heart. A thing where two arteries and one vein were grafted to the “still” heart. It was not a fun thing, but a necessary thing and an
I have a backlog of random content that freely wanders into my head. And since I have taken measures to share all kinds of particulars about my life … perhaps over-sharing … why stop now? What else do I have to do? So, no time for an about-face – I am here to continue spilling
I began this foray into writing as my self-prescribed therapeutic escape. Little did I know it would prove to be a much needed respite for me throughout the previous years’ absurdity. It provided fodder for some unfortunate ranting, some unexpected raves and some lovely recollections. It was a sucky year. And that’s the way the
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EATING MY FEELINGS (my oh sooooooo many feelings) DONUTS. Each one a magnificent ring-shaped sampling of scrumptiousness. My donut cravings show up a few times per year; precipitated by nothing but plain old burning desire. And when they do, I become fixated on where to get the very best ones. Sometimes it takes a great
S.T.R.E.S.S.E D. Spelled Backwards is D.E.S.S.E.R.T.S. Read More »
I have always had a thing about my “here, baby, there, momma, everywhere, daddy, daddy, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair”. My hair-raising adventures began with a bowling ball peach fuzzy skull kind of deal. And this lasted for way too long in my opinion. But inch by inch my mane presented itself,
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