I’m writing sprawled out on my bed wearing ear plugs, slippers, and a shabby, mix-matched outfit I grabbed from my dark closet early this morning. My husband woke me at 6am to go out for coffee, a favorite weekend treat we do once in a while when I can remove myself from the soft-sheet comfort …
As I sat sprawled out on my lawn chair during quiet moments this week during a midday break, I reflected about friends and those many I read about on blogs facing illnesses, some more debilitating than others, but nevertheless challenging. I took a moment for a silent prayer for those suffering, while thanking God for …
I’m chuckling watching the tall, elder man in my Zumba class, who looks a bit like Frankenstein with his broad, square shoulders and large clunky feet, probably a size 14, intent on following the super-charged dance moves of our tiny, sprite, millennial teacher shakin’ her fit and firm booty, jazzing to the hip-hop beat. I …
I read a Facebook post comment yesterday where a woman wrote about being dissatisfied with some of the churches she’s frequented. She called one a Stepford church because everyone looked alike — women wore the same kind of 2.5 inch heeled pumps and similar floral print dresses, calf-length, with a platter collar. It made me …
A while back when I faced an onslaught of anxiety from the far horizon of my unconscious, during the desert of mid-life, when my hands-on, self-less years of motherhood withered to cooking one family dinner a week, if even, when my son’s adolescence took root, when menopause and teen hormones danced hip-hop through my living room, …
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