We Are Each Someone’s 8 Year Old Boy

This is not written in anger as much as passion and concern. Well. Maybe anger. Sincerity. Yes, I think that’s it.

I started the morning with the news that an 8 yr old boy was killed yesterday, April 15, 2013, at the Boston Marathon, due to an explosion. I further read of the tragedy to the rest of his family. Of course, my thoughts were of sadness and sympathy for the mother and father. Continue reading

Every morning, get up.

Often you may have heard someone say they want to go sliding into their graves all used up.  Me, however, frequently the one to swim upstream, intends to be squarely planted over my final resting place, with one finger pointing in the air (thank you, Pilates planks!), pleading, “Wait! I have one more thing to do”! Perhaps, one of my favorite bloggers feels the same. Continue reading

Consistently Inconsistent

“A woman’s life can really be a succession of lives, each revolving around some emotionally compelling situation or challenge, and each marked off by some intense experience.” ~ Wallis Simpson

Yes, and hence seemingly “consistently inconsistent”.  “But I thought you said yesterday…” is sometimes spoken in my presence. “A woman’s right to change her mind” is a right I exercise.  Continue reading

Magical Motivation From Children

Yesterday evening as I watched my granddaughter, Ella have her bath and play gleefully in the water with the bubbles, I had an epiphany of sorts. Children inherently know, what we forget as adults. Don’t take life or yourself, too seriously. Continue reading

Maine Life

I experienced the opportunity to visit Downeast Maine last week. Scarcity of any  signs of civilization, which some may find a culture shock. As many of my road trips are, it was an adventure. What should have been a 2 1/2 hour tour, turned to 3 hours. Along the way I met interesting people who remind me why I live here. Continue reading

Peanut Butter Cookies

Creating the perfect recipe for life is an ongoing experiment. We seemingly create it with little thought to the ingredients; measuring; or how much time we have.

I was thinking of this when making my grandmother’s “secret” peanut butter cookie recipe. I’m pretty sure it’s still a secret, because it carried the penalty of death if you divulged it. And if you knew my grandmother, you’d know no one would challenge her. She’s been gone about 30 years, but she’d still know. Her way of measuring the ingredients was a “pinch of this”, and a “dash of that”.  “Bake until done”. She passed this method on to her daughters, who in turn, passed it down to their daughters and sons. And so it goes. Continue reading