I was well on my way to winning the Great Pink Camp Cold Swim Challenge of 2018. That’s rockstar and the competitor in me is all about the win, but never in the history of the challenge has it gone down in January. It hasn’t gone down in February either. If memory serves, my Dad…
When I walked into the grocery store, the 2 or 3 people near the registers just sort of… stared. One woman blinked several times. I smiled (not that anyone could tell), half waved, brushed off some snow and made my way to the pharmacy. I was just grateful they were open. I had called ahead…
Evie, “Does George really have to go?” Me to Evie, “Honey, we’ve talked about this. Yes. George was a wonderful Christmas tree. We’re grateful for his service and hope he {and his surprise nest of little spiders} enjoyed the novelty of living indoors. Now he’s a kindling and a fire hazard. It’s time for him…
A few weeks ago Scott said, “Listen, I love the blog and I love reading what you write. But… you might want to lay off your Mom stories just a bit. It’s funny to us, but people might think too much is… I don’t know… not nice.” Huh. Ok. While she did offer to be…
Warm, in bed, just waking up… the kind of wake up that’s happy and not rushed. From downstairs I hear Evie, “Ahhhhhhh… No! Not again! Nooooooo!” Zero to tangled up in the sheets, tripping out of bed, looking for pants… clean pants, dirty pants, any pants to get downstairs…. forget the pants. I don’t need pants. …
