“Are you people actually arguing over a doughnut?” my thirteen year old daughter inquired from the backseat. “Yes, we are,” I replied. “And don’t call your parents ‘you people’.” Hubby and I don’t argue very often, and when we do it’s generally over some petty miscommunication. Like the time he asked me to hold the front door open while he carried stuff… View Post
Precious memories, how they linger
My dad recently called to let me know he’d found a buyer for the old family homestead. I was last there a few years ago, right after the death of my precious grandmother. The house was going to be rented out and my job was to clean it before the new tenants arrived. The task proved to be more difficult than I… View Post
Chowder: In for a cup, in for a bowl
Every week hubby sets aside one evening specifically for the purpose of taking care of the household so I can go some place quiet to work on my writing. In my ideal world I would have lots of time to escape to my well-organized home office, with a nice window and no clutter begging for my attention. But the reality is,… View Post
The ABCs of Belize
Last year we had the privilege of living in Belize for two months. Most Belizean grocery stores are owned by Chinese families or German Mennonites, so finding familiar ingredients can be a bit of a challenge. I can give you the names of three stores that sell pig snouts, and two that sell chicken feet by the pound, but only one… View Post
The unusual places bluegrass takes us
Last night I tagged along with hubby on one of his bluegrass gigs. Over the years his music has taken us to lots of interesting places. We’ve been to festivals celebrating everything from bridges to mules. We’ve been to old music halls that were once regal with color and decorum, but are now faded and smell heavily of mildew. We’ve visited every nursing… View Post
Carrying on an old family tradition
Over the course of our twenty year relationship there have been three times when hubby voluntarily admitted he was wrong. The first time, we had been dating three months when he walked into the room, put his arms around me, and sincerely stated, “I’m sorry I raised my voice to you.” I did not realize he had raised his voice, so… View Post
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