On this Christmas Day 2018 when the world seems so topsy-turvy, I give you the words of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow , written on Christm...

Who I am now is a lot different from who I was a few months ago. Changes. Unexpected transitions. You know. Stuff happens, and it's al...

Happy Labor Day, y'all. It's a day to celebrate the 40-hour work week, overtime pay, a minimum wage (as small as it might be), col...

While skimming through the New York Times  trying to maintain my sanity by avoiding anything vaguely political (a hard thing to do these d...

Years ago, I told a friend that someday I was going to write a book called Everything I Know I Learned From Musicals. For instance, did ...

This is a Mother's Day story. It's not about my mother. I've written about her wonderful, loving, quirky self many times. It...

It's Teacher Appreciation Day. If Facebook says it's so, it must be so. Having been taught by the best (and a few of the worst) an...

I'm suffering from a little bit of wanderlust. I want to go somewhere, but I don't know where. Not sure why this is getting under ...

Ah, it's almost over. Though an a nnus horribilis  in many ways, there have been many bright spots that kept life afloat in the midst of...

The world is a mess. Some things I can't do a darn thing about. If a friend has shared a worry or is dealing with the loss of loved ...

The other day a friend from Wales requested I blog about the current football-kneeling kerfuffle to help her understand the uproar. I gave...

It's 6:00pm July 31, and I am officially on a 3-month sabbatical. No, I'm not writing a book. (Or maybe I am.) No, I'm not tre...

Growing up in the 50's and 60's, summers took on over-arching themes. The summer we lived in Perry, Georgia, will always be the Su...

I've always been a girl on the go. Little did I realize that sometimes I need to stop. Safely. Without falling over. While vacationi...

Life isn't fair. We say it to our sweet toddlers, surly teens, frustrated 20-somethings, and anyone of any age confronted with perceiv...

When I was living in England in the mid-1970s, I was given a copy of George and Weedon Grossmith's The Diary of a Nobody as an exam...

Well, it's that time of year. Time to give up or take on. Lent. My least favorite season (except for late August, which seems to go on...

After a busy couple of weeks involving tending a sick grandgirl, fighting off a cold, travel, booth-tending, and grandboy's birthday p...

Reading over my scared but hopeful post of January 1st, I realize that I have completely failed to live up to those feathers of hope. I...

“Hope” is the thing with feathers  That perches in the soul And sings the tune without the words And never stops - at all And sweetest...