stop running

A few months back, searching for an old Halloween photo, I found this picture.  We had moved to a new home, in a new subdivision, several miles south of San Francisco.  I know this to be true because my dad's beloved and well maintained lawn, flower garden, fence and side yard fish pond didn't exist …

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motherly imperfections

  ... taking an extra-large "mother's cut" of Easter candy before filling your baskets ... needing a "sweat rag" to hold while teaching you to drive ... making up excuses not to take you places because I didn't feel like it ... making up excuses because I was afraid ... serving you fish sticks, French fries and corn... all in one meal …

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after doubt has had it’s way… write

"Honey, I can't stop moving cause I might not get going again", my grandpa often said.  I thought he was talking about going for a walk, or wrangling horses, or making hot dog and parmesan cheese tacos.  Turns out his observation applies to much, much more... Like writing words on paper... which sounds kind of wimpy compared to what he used …

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Renewal

Mostly I'm a point A to point B person.... as in, we have a long way to go so let's go.  Now. I'm not your best choice as a shopping partner.  I can fake that I like shopping for a while... a short while.  Typically I have a list and that's the reason I'm at the store.  …

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Day Eleven ~ Missing In Action

31 Days of Aging Grace is still fresh in my mind.  I've never written and posted to my blog for 31 days straight.  Well, almost 31 days... If you look at the list of links during the month of October, day eleven is link-less. I tried to cover up a bit and glossed over it on …

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31 Days of Aging Grace ~ Follow the Yellow Brick Road

... or maybe a leaf-strewn yellow line. And may I say... I'm glad this is the last day of 31 posts! Thank you to all who read along and "liked" and shared and commented.  I appreciate you. Only a little to share today.... ...getting older isn't so scary - those ahead of me have set lights along …

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Throw a duffel bag at me… really, it’s ok

Twice I circled the arrival lanes at Anchorage Airport. No husband. He had called two hours earlier, and I must say, after nine weeks it was about time.  The kids and I scrambled into the old Chevy suburban and trekked to town... 45 minutes on a good day... one hour on a bad.  Today it was very …

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