I was in real hot water with a dear friend, and it wasn’t my mouth this time — well, not exactly. She sent me a photo of herself vacationing on the French Riviera. The photo showed her holding up a glass of wine, as if toasting the universe.
I may be the only person who’s glad summer is over. It’s not that I don’t like summer; I do — tourists and all. Then again, I love the North Fork with all its delightful seasons, winter included. (Weird, I know!)
Why the uncharacteristic behavior? It’s complicated, and not. Although I’m never at a loss for words or ideas, I’ve (more…)
Most of us are familiar with this popular lyric from the hit musical “Mary Poppins”: “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.” Mary Poppins and Mom had a couple of things in common: Mom had a lovely soprano voice and supported the notion that nasty-tasting medicine could be mitigated with sugar. I didn’t agree — but, then again, Mom thought me rebellious.
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.
In January, my son Jeff and I were chatting about this and that — just an ordinary phone conversation, or so I thought. He was recounting his trip to Sicily, discussing the election results, the weather and, smack in the middle of our exchange, he said, “And Mom, it looks like you’re gonna finally be a grandma!” Jeff then continued the conversation — one-sided now!
A widowed friend was picking my brain about how to meet eligible men. The idea of dating after many years of marriage terrified her. She knew I “came out” and tested the shark-infested waters also known as dating. READ
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