Recent Stories
Not it when it comes to ‘not it’
Features Columnist
There is a little something I’d like to address that’s been bugging me for quite some time — practically all of my life, if I really think about it.
Motherhood, new respect for different moms
Features Columnist
I thought I was a good mother. After learning of the extraordinary feats of some other mothers, however, I gained a whole new respect for another mothering world — the four (and more) legged one.
Dog sending subtle signs
Features Columnist
I can’t prove it, but I’m pretty sure my dog thinks he’s better than me.
Wrap that antique to go, please
Feature Columnist
The move wasn’t far, just a few miles down the road to a two-story house framed in pretty greenery and with a little back patio all laid out in brick. It would be great, I thought.
I’m not crazy, he’s a sharp-dressed man
Feature column
"Guess what I saw today?” I ask no one in particular, simply voice out loud to the only two other people in the room at the time, my husband and my 15-year-old daughter. She sits curled on one end of the sofa, he on the other.
You know, you look just like ...
Features column
‘See, I told you, Mom,” the young man said as he held his mother by the arm and turned her around in my direction, not two feet from me and uncomfortably teetering on the cusp of my personal space.
In rearranging, never toss in the towel
Features column
I have learned many things in my lifetime, quite a few lessons that repeat themselves over and over again. One, however, never gets old. After 22 years of marriage, I still get a thrill out of seeing the look on my hubby’s face when I pick up a hammer.
Fortune can be often overlooked
Features column
The lady stood at the foot of the off ramp wearing blue jeans and a green flannel shirt. Her hair was pulled back from her face, free of make up or lipstick. She didn’t appear to be particularly young, or old either, for that matter.
Where’s that coupon for brake pads ...
The car in front of me slammed on brakes and I, just as quickly, slammed on brakes and instinctively flung my right arm out and across the passenger’s seat. This time there was no one sitting there whose life I was saving from being thrown into the dashboard, just my pocketbook.
Boy, I stepped into that one
Features column
‘I really like your boots,” I said as I walked past the little girl with a tousled muss of blonde curls and her mama, I assume, sitting on a bench in the hallway at work. “I wish I had some boots like that.”
