I turned 58 years old on April 7, 2022. There was absolutely nothing I could do about it if I wanted to keep living. I was simply not given a choice in the matter.
On Tribes…
The word “Tribe” has gained popularity among women over the past decade. Here in Oklahoma, we mainly think of a tribe in the indigenous people sense of the word and I find it a little curious that in a time where athletics teams have had to change their mascots in the name of political correctness and sensitivity, scores of blonde-haired,[…]
On Human Arrogance…
Pictured is the Guanacaste tree for which the province of Guanacaste, Costa Rica was named. My beloved and I (wait, I get to call him my fiancé now!) spent the past week in this lovely part of the world. If you have the opportunity to visit, it would do you some good. The beaches are clean – not white like[…]
On The Relief of Being Ordinary…
Aren’t we tired? Aren’t we all tired of our quest to be extraordinary? The need to make one’s mark in a world full of people who are also trying to make their marks is exhausting. There are myriad self help books on our night stands, only half read because we tell ourselves we cannot possibly achieve what this book says[…]
On Our Impact…
The northernmost sugarberry.
On the Full Length Mirror…
As our physical bodies become less attractive, the Universe balances things out. As the hair grays and the wrinkles multiply, my relationships become more refined, more relaxed, more important, and more beautiful. As my eyesight weakens and becomes blurry, my vision moves from the eyes to the heart, and I see more beauty through the filter of age, experience, and[…]
On Writing Off the Year…
2022 has to be a better year. We’ve all heard it. We’ve all said it. 2020 and 2021 were horrible years, complete and total losses. We were optimistic, even if cautiously so, that 2022 was going to be better. We had hope for this brand new set of twelve months. We were betting on 2022 being the redemption year for[…]
On New Years…
Today is the first day of 2022. I know we all have hope that it will be a kinder year for us; the last two have been such jackasses.
On Where Christmas Went…
When I was a kid, my mother often read Erma Bombeck’s column to me. Mom loved Erma, and I enjoyed the column too, but I never fully appreciated the essays until I was a mother. Erma wrote the following column in 1971 and it was republished in newspapers during Christmas for years afterward. Mom had cut out the article and[…]
And Now We Are Three…
And now we are three. Then, one day, we will be two. After that, only one. And then…. This picture was taken Christmas morning, 1969. If memory serves, we all got new pajamas as our gift to open Christmas Eve. This helped insure we were somewhat presentable the next morning when Mom’s Polaroid came out. That is my older brother[…]