Always Real, Sometimes Sweet, Sometimes Tart, Tuna

Jane

When my mother-in-law dozed off, I shut the door to her room at the assisted living facility and looked for some place where I could sit unnoticed and NOT think. When you are visiting a place such as that, you can only really think one thought:  Life is a river flowing in one direction.  Eventually – and more quickly than the mind can conceive – the river empties out into the great delta of geriatric unpleasantness. Unless one capsizes mid-journey and is swallowed up by the river, the delta is our destiny.  The great contradiction of…

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School, Snips And Snails, Sometimes Sweet

The Year of the Blonde

Last year was the year of The Brunette. This year, it is apparently the year of The Blonde. What can I say brunettes, the times they are a’changin’. Last year, Sean was in love with his teacher Ms. Vicky, who is a drop-dead gorgeous Latina.  I must say, Sean’s taste in women is exquisite, much like that of his own father who didn’t find anyone exquisite enough to marry until he was 41. Ms. Vicky’s daughter was also in Sean’s pre-K class and every day Sean would come home from school talking about the two lovely…

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Christmas, Snips And Snails, Sometimes Sweet

The Christmas Bonus

One of the things I miss the most about having a toddler around the house is the spontaneous and exuberant affection. As a toddler, Sean was given to fits of passion.  Without warning, his teeny tiny heart would seemingly erupt with unrestrained and irrational love.  All that slobbery affection had to go somewhere and I was his favorite target. I miss the days when he would stand in my lap, giggling and bouncing on fat little legs.  I miss how he would wrap his ams around my head and gnaw on my face.  I miss the…

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Always Real, Sometimes Sweet

Lick The Bowl

Yesterday morning, Sean decided that we should make muffins for breakfast.  I told him I thought that was a great idea and that he should do that; he should make us some muffins. Sean has been my sous chef since he was old enough to stand upright on his own.  I love having him in the kitchen with me. It always seemed easier to me to give him something to stir or maul with a dull knife than to run him off or park him in front of the TV.  Sure,  early on it was a…

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GiGi and Poopah, Sometimes Sweet

And Dingo Was His Name-Oh

There was a farmer, had a dog, and Buddy was his name-oh! Then one day a new family moved in up the road. Buddy paid the new family a visit to welcome them to the area, as is the custom in East Texas.  Buddy liked the new family. In fact, Buddy like the new family a whole lot. Buddy spent the night and the next day. And the next day. The new family did not know Buddy’s name and so they called him “That Dingo Dog”  because, in fact, Buddy looked like a Dingo.  Dingo fell…

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Joy, Sometimes Sweet

Time Out Or Time In?

I keep this list of things that I want to write about.  Right now this list is about three pages long and four years old.  Like a good stew, I just keep adding new stuff to the top. This morning, I was looking at that list and decided to scroll to the very bottom to see what was on my mind four years ago and what I saw was this:  “Time Out or Time In?” If someone were to find this list after my death, it would lead to the only logical conclusion. She was nuts.…

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Snips And Snails, Sometimes Sweet

Hinsley

On Friday, I picked Sean up from school, and as usual, I was sly and wily in trying to extract information from him.  Sometimes I have to resort to waterboarding to get anything out of him, but that day he was in a particularly forthcoming mood. “Who did you play with on the playground?” I asked. “I played with everyone.” “That’s good,” I said, “I like to hear that.” “I played with Hinsley,” he added.  I looked in the rear view mirror to see him beaming. His face was aglow. “Do you think Hinsley is a…

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Joy, Sometimes Sweet, Thinkin' Out Loud

On Finding Joy

Late last year, I was asked if I would be willing to speak to a group of ladies and if so, what would I talk about? I said, yes, and I have no idea. So then. I panicked. And then I called my friend Lysa Terkeurst (subliminalmessagebuyLysasbooks) who is by far the most dynamic and powerful speaker I’ve ever heard and I prevailed upon her for wisdom. She gave me some great advice about planning a speech and crafting a message.  She also helped me see that the essence of what I write about here is…

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Antique Crazy, Makes Me Sigh, Sometimes Sweet, Sometimes Tart

A Children Ache

Every night before bedtime, and sometimes before school, Sean and AD will read at least one chapter from a book of children’s classics. Having gone through most of the other more exciting and well known titles, we are down to Pollyanna. But he is just as enthralled with Pollyanna as he was with The Swiss Family Robinson. Stepping up to chapter books like Tom Sawyer and Oliver Twist has presented many opportunities to talk about some of the more unsavory and unpleasant aspects of life.  Many of the characters are orphaned or suffer cruelty at the…

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Always Real, Silliness, Sometimes Sweet

What Are The Odds?

The following statistics are based on my own personal scientific research over a period of four decades. If you are wearing a black shirt and you attempt to put on deodorant, there is a 97% chance you will get the deodorant on the bottom of your shirt.  If you attempt to put on deodorant while wearing a black shirt and a blindfold, the odds of getting deodorant on your shirt increase to 97.2%   If you have no other clean shirts to wear and you are rushing out the door to give a speech, the odds increase…

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