Amid the hustle and bustle of Christmas shopping, I remember turning to my husband in the kitchen and saying, “You know, I remember when kids would just be thrilled to get an orange and a peppermint stick for Christmas.”
He gave me “the look.” The one with the raised eyebrow that means, “What in the HECK are you talking about?”
I clarified. “Well, I guess *I* don’t remember it personally. It’s something I remember reading about in the Little House on the Prairie books. So I guess it was a long time ago. And not really my own memory.”
He let it pass. After all, I’ve been saying some rather strange things lately during this pregnancy. But the citrus thing stuck with me. When did we become so discontent with the gift of fresh fruit? Or have we?
Several …
“It can’t be true because he’s so well loved.”
“It can’t be true because he was around so many others and it didn’t happen to them.”
“It can’t be true because they waited so long to come forward.”
“It can’t be true because they’re conspiring to ruin him.”
I know. I get it. None of us WANT to believe someone we know, respect or admire could be a rapist. It shakes us and makes us question all those around us in positions of trust or authority. And yes, occasionally, unfortunately, rarely, false accusations are made which ruin someone’s life, and that’s not right either.
But when you begin to defend someone (and this time that someone in the news is Bill Cosby) based solely on the reasons given above, I can’t help but feel old angers rising …
If I’m in the sandwich generation, these are the pieces of bread that hold me together.
This is therapy. This is me just spilling it all out, like the contents in an oft-used yet rarely cleaned purse. I’m going through some heavy stuff at the moment, and I need to get it all out there before trying to put it back neatly in place. I remember my mom doing just this with her sensible leather purses. Always the same style. Long strap, multiple pockets, some neutral shade like black, taupe or navy blue. Every so often, she’d pull all the contents out onto our long dining room table, and I’d watch with fascination as she sorted things into piles. The lipstick, nail file, loose change, wadded up tissues, checkbook, and other items of her daily …
I know, I know. Many of you would shake your fist at me for ever dissing those orange orbs that grace front porches everywhere this fall, but your hands are full–one with a Pumpkin Spice Latte and the other with a pumpkin muffin. Here’s the deal. I used to love pumpkin-flavored everything, from warm drinks to cold pumpkin pie ice cream. But now? It must be these pregnancy hormones. It all just sounds so…gross.
These things were HUGE! I don’t have dainty hands.
As a blog ambassador for Whole Foods, I was give the opportunity to talk about some of my favorite fall-inspired foods. And wouldn’t you know, I’m all about that apple right now. I mean, local apples in season are just so crispy, sweet and delicious. I can’t get enough. I’m a frequent customer …
When Arts Partners asked if I’d like to attend Arty Party with my girls, write about my experience, and also give away some tickets on my Facebook page, I was intrigued. I’d heard of Arts Partners, thanks to a wildly successful social media fundraising campaign, ArtDOG (Art Day of Giving) earlier this year. The campaign, a project of the Wichita Community Foundation and The Arts Council, brought funds and awareness to the many arts organizations serving our area. Obviously, it worked. Arts Partners was on my radar, at least. Here’s a little more about what they do:
…a comprehensive educational program that integrates visual and performing arts into all areas of the curriculum through the planned use of community cultural resources. Arts Partners inspires creativity and learning by using the arts to …
I’d like to tell you a story. A story about two friends. They’re young, maybe 21 or 22. One’s name is Steve, the other, Marcus.
Marcus is outgoing and known to be a frequent party-goer and very generous. He’s often willing to give his friends money, or buy everyone a round at their favorite dive bar. Behind his back, he’s sometimes called a “sucker.” He knows some people say these things, but he tries not to let it bother him. It’s his money, and he can do with it what he wants.
Steve seems to be a good guy and has a lot of friends. He holds a good job and doesn’t seem to ruffle too many feathers.
One night at the bar, Steve runs into a problem. He’s forgotten his wallet. Noticing his friend’s plight, Marcus offers …