Secrets are tantalizing. And to think I finally cracked the code on the secret to living happily ever after.
The other day, I innocently asked my grandson what he would like for his upcoming ninth birthday. He thought for a moment, then gazed intently into my eyes and answered explicitly, “No books, Nana. And nothing you knitted…”
What’s easy to do? Spend life in rigid countdown mode – ticking off backwards down to zero.
I don’t excel in the kitchen. No magnificently stuffed, basted and roasted turkey will ever
emerge from my seldom-used oven to my gleaming Lenox serving platter – unless someone else makes it. I must confess, I am more interested in what goes on around the table rather than what dishes get
placed on it…
There is no gentle way to say this: My husband and I lost three special friends within a two-week period. Their ages: 83, 72, and 65. Two had health issues, but their deaths were nevertheless unexpected…
Most people think it’s just skinny 16-year-olds that develop anorexia nervosa and teenagers of all sizes that develop bulimia. ED (eating disorder) is a restless lover, attracted to potential lovers of all ages. And he’s made great inroads with women in midlife and beyond.
My brand-new day planner for 2019 arrived from Amazon yesterday, and I eagerly began rifling through it – entering key dates and events.
When we were first married, my husband would sit on the edge of our king-size bed every morning and circle my slim waist with his massive hands.
I’ve been busy since my mother passed away three months ago. I have been re-orienting myself to a new status: A Parentless Adult.
The call came around noon on Tuesday. It was from my son, who was in Cincinnati for business and had stopped to see his grandmother.
“Mom,” my son beseeched, “you need to get to Ohio as fast as you can. Nana’s not doing well.”