FEATURES COLUMN: When it comes to hearing, things can get real selective
They could save money on studies by running theories by married couples.
FEATURES COLUMN: No sense in magnifying the truth
A magnifying mirror can be surprising … at least on one side.
FEATURES COLUMN: Reaction and growth from adversity is also something to be grateful for
Gratitude makes all the difference in your attitude.
FEATURES COLUMN: A nice nap is nothing to squeal about
I wish someone would tell me I have to take a nap.
Hopefully, I am not the only person who didn’t realize the Olympics would be returning in February 2014, this time to Russia where they will play winter games of all shapes and sizes. I still would be clueless were it not for the tiny Olympic logo I noticed in the corner of the television screen the other night
Everything in life is better with bacon.
My friend Ann found a note on the pew at church one Communion Sunday. Scribbled in a child's hand, it read: Daddy wen do we do the drinking?
It was Kierkegaard, I think, who said that many of us pursue pleasure with such breathless haste that we hurry past it. When I was young, I may not have understood what he meant. I get it now.
It was little over a week ago that my good friend showed up at work with a bee in her bonnet. Apparently, she had encountered just that morning an individual wearing pajamas out in public. Overly baggy sleep pants. A thin, stained shirt that left little to the imagination. Mismatched socks on feet crammed into shuffling flip-flops. Hair a muss. And a continually yawning, rolled-out-of-bed look on her face as she escorted her child into school.
“She said she doesn’t care.” Those were the last words I heard before a silence so thick it was suffocating filled the room, only to be broken a good fifteen seconds later by a low, throaty, almost fearful whisper.
She smelled of tea rose and Oil of Olay and the buckle on her brown leather purse was shaped like a flower. It may be strange to notice a buckle, I suppose, but this one stood out because it reflected the light just so and almost demanded me to notice it. It was just a little thing, but it led me to what I consider a treasure.
It was a question I had never asked my husband. I was just too embarrassed, I guess, to reveal something so personal about myself even after 22 years of marriage. What if he laughed at me? Thought I was stupid? The urge was too overwhelming, though, and I had to take the risk. So I did, there in the hotel restaurant as we sat waiting for our dinner. I had just settled back into my seat after a trip to the restroom. It was the perfect time.
For a car filled with four teenagers and a middle-aged couple headed north, it was remarkably quiet.
I didn’t even have to think about it. The words rolled off my tongue as if on auto pilot. “You’ll get worms,” I said, and as soon as the words left my lips another thought leapt to mind. Where in the world did I first hear that and why was it ingrained in my brain for all eternity?
The small, perfectly square cardboard box came with the mail last Tuesday. I forgot about it until I saw him sitting in the den — a collar, batteries and a small remote control spread out over the coffee table. He sighed in frustration. “Here,” my hubby said. “touch this,” and held the dog collar out to me.