I’ve dubbed this past June “the month of bombshells.” The shells started flying in May, when a routine visit with my ophthalmologist morphed into what seems like a lifelong relationship. But I don’t mind; he’s on the cutting edge of medicine and a nice guy.
However, I wasn’t prepared to hear that I needed cataract surgery in both eyes.
Bombshell No. 1.
Folks are becoming increasingly rude, don’t you think? From my vantage point, it seems that rudeness is a pandemic that’s sweeping the nation — and it ain’t pretty. READ
It’s always a trip, literally and figuratively, to visit my adult kids in California. When we’re together, our conversations gravitate to the “remember whens.” Our individual recollections vacillate widely: joyful, hilarious or downright sad. This visit, we reminisced about “Christmas past” — a season we shared in another time and place, a lifetime ago. READ
I’m a people watcher, but hold on: I don’t peek through windows or engage in stalking or gawking, nothing creepy like that. Wherever or whatever I’m doing, I usually find something that sparks my interest.
Growing up, one of Mom’s famous “Mom-isms” was “Celia! Act your age.” Jeez! How I hated those words. Now that I am a gal of a certain age, I get ticked off when some 30-something magazine editor tells me to dress age appropriately — in other words, “ to act my age.”
One Friday morning before heading to work, I decided to vacuum the house — bad decision. My house was neat and clean, but I was expecting company that evening. READ
It was like a slow-moving storm that began creeping around my consciousness the week before Mother’s Day. I felt irritable, tired and was probably a tad b—– (it rhymes with “witchy”). I’m usually in tune with my emotions, but this time I was stymied.
I was chatting long-distance with a gal-pal who moved out of state after her husband died. She is currently dating the “man of her dreams” and quite intoxicated with endorphins, serotonin and dopamine, aka the feel-good hormones. READ