My daughter has been tweaking me lately that this blog is…wholesome. That gives me pause. In uncool-mom parlance, “Dude, wholesomeness isn’t cool!” The idea of being wholesome appalls the rebellious teenager inside me. Wholesome is like…parents (mine, anyway). Wholesome is Mary Ingalls, not Laura. Wholesome is Melanie Hamilton, not Scarlett O’Hara. I would never want to be …Read More

  People die. That’s it. The End. When I was 12 years old, I couldn’t imagine that life beyond the age of 55 would be worth living (I’ve written about this before, but it keeps coming up.) I forget now why I chose 55. My own grandparents weren’t that much older, though I guess I …Read More