"I'll run in and grab the key." Mom and sister Maggie sat in the rental car, windows rolled down, travel clothes a little sticky after a long drive from Miami to Marathon. This was mother-daughter trip number five, destination: Florida Keys. The approach was not how I imagined it. The internet has the drive from… Continue reading Under-Promise and Over-Deliver
The line at Subway was long. Limited-time guacamole. I watched people in the front consider their mounting decisions: at an extra fifty cents, guac or no guac? Which bread would you like, which meat, which cheeses? Mayo, mustard, or one of twelve dressings? Banana or jalapeno peppers? Salt and pepper? Hot or cold? A myriad… Continue reading To Stay or Swerve? A Discussion on Lanes.
Nostalgia is a powerful emotion: part joy, longing, and gratitude, all bundled up into a warm embrace that reminds us how our past influences our present. Today, I packed up the Christmas tree ornaments, and I felt nostalgic. Each ornament represents a different time in our lives, even the ones my mom bought new and… Continue reading The End of the Line (or Not)?
Every morning at the lake, I drink my coffee from the top porch where I’m comfy in my chair and close to more coffee. One morning this summer I changed it up. I filled my mug and took the steps down to the dock where I could sit low and watch the fog slowly lift… Continue reading Defining Community: Starlings and He Who Has No Name*
I am really good at Legos. Just ask my son Lewis. We built a lot of Legos together. Star Wars space ships half the size of his bedroom, Batman headquarters, and an entire city with every emergency vehicle known to humanity. Just look at the pictures and build something with wheels. It's a pretty gratifying… Continue reading It Starts with a Handshake.
I walked into my boyfriend's bedroom for the first time. It wasn't what you think, so if you've already gone there, you are going to be disappointed. It wasn't what I thought either. The room was stark and minimal. No clutter, no clothes on the floor; it was a monastic living space but for the… Continue reading The Tagline Boomerang
I’m a teacher. Except I'm not. My teen-aged daughter tells me I’m not. For some reason she doesn’t like to allow me the privilege of saying I’m a teacher. It’s not that she has anything against teaching, at least I don’t think she does (I need to run a focus group on that), she’s just an… Continue reading What Exactly is a Teacher?