First off, I should say I wouldn’t even be here without the kids. No, I’m not talking about their love or unerring support–have you even met my kids? They will cut you for a cookie. (But then again, so will I.) No, I mean that without their destructive, logic-defying antics, I wouldn’t have been writing as long as I have. The whole blog is just a protracted focus group meant to answer the question: Are they crazy or am I? Now there is a book. It’s about the insanity I am subjected to every day, be it from the kids, my hillbilly husband or my own inner, and clearly dysfunctional voice. Bowing to popular opinion, I have not given up my day job. And why would I? It’s clean, it’s quiet, and none of my co-workers demand that I wash their dirty socks or steal my earphones. I may move in.
Yesterday I took my boots to be resoled. Found a lovely, old-timey shop run by an tiny elderly man in an apron, with wire rimmed glasses and handsomely calloused hands... he couldn’t have looked more like a cobbler elf if he tried. The shop certainly bore up to the...read more
For the past ten years or so, I usually set my sights on an annual goal; something new I haven’t experienced or something that pushes me farther along a familiar path. In this way I’ve run my first marathon, my first sub-5 hour marathon, my first trail run, my first...read more
One of the advantages of all your children being teenagers is that, during the summer, nobody rolls out of their bedroom until at least 10:30. “Hooray!” I thought, “I am going to get so much done!” Wrong. So wrong. When presented with the wide open freedom of...read more