So I just had another birthday. How do I feel about that? Since you only stop having them after you’re dead, I guess I feel pretty good. In fact, I’ve recently made some serious investments in the future by electing to renew my car registration for two years instead of one, and my membership in
I’m sitting here typing and trying to be very quiet. I’m about to write terrible things about my computer and I don’t want it to know. I realize I sound more than a touch crazy, but I’m convinced that if I’m not circumspect, and the central processing unit gets wind of what I’m doing, a
If decisions I’ve made in my life were sorted into folders, this most recent choice would definitely be filed away under the heading “What Was I Thinking?” It certainly would not be the only item in that file, just the latest. In fact, if I reflect on many of the decisions I’ve made in the
It seems like only yesterday that I was wishing everyone a Happy New Year at the dawning of 2013. Or is that just me, being a year older, and once again falling victim to the cognitive illusion that time speeds up as we age? Or, is it all the fun I’m having that’s making time
I don’t mean to deceive. It’s not my fault if people assume that I’m athletic. I certainly don’t encourage this. I never discuss sports, my scores, my best game ever. Not even how the team I was on always won at Color War. (That would really be deceitful, since I never went to camp.) So
Once upon a time, not too long ago, there was just The Book. No, not THAT book, but a book. You remember. Actual printed pages encased between two covers. And the only decision to be made was whether to buy the hard cover edition or wait for the cheaper, lighter weight paperback version. Then along
I am about to brag. If you don’t want to listen to me bragging, you have my permission to stop reading right now. I generally hate it when people brag, so I wouldn’t blame you in the least. Bragging is obnoxious. If it isn’t one of the seven deadly sins, it should be. I much
It is October, and adhering to the biannual rhythm of our recent life, we have returned to Florida. The flight fortunately was uneventful, and we arrived, as scheduled, on the same Saturday on which we boarded the plane. The dogs arrived on Sunday, driven from Connecticut by their faithful friend and chauffeur, Kevin. After unpacking
Looking over the kitchen counter, I can see my husband. He is in the living room, sitting in his favorite chair, reading the newspaper, and leisurely enjoying his second cup of coffee. It is early morning, and he’s still in his pjs, bath robe and slippers. It is one of those days when he doesn’t
Friends – even if you are one of those people who claim to be only vaguely interested in television, and swear that you watch only PBS soap operas, British spy movies, The History Channel, or Bloomberg Business, you must be aware that the new season is upon us. I, for one, am an unabashed TV
