My brother and I hang ornaments from a less-than-perfect tree. But that never mattered to me. It’s one time we actually got along when we were younger. š
It’s not even Thanksgiving yet, and still, Christmas has taken over. This is no surprise, as it’s crept earlier and earlier every year. But it bothers me, for several reasons. First of all, I love Thanksgiving, and feel that the Santa-shaped shadow is looming over this once-simple holiday. Yes, I know the stories I was told about Thanksgiving growing up (happy Pilgrims and Indians frolicking together) are way off base, but I enjoy the tone it has developed over the years. It’s all about being grateful, and expressing that gratitude to others. Ok, who am I kidding? I like the food, and maybe this is my main …
You have two choices when you see this sign on the side of the road. You can avert, or pervert, your eyes.
I have four nephews, the oldest of whom is only five years younger than me. They’re more like little brothers than nephews, especially since I spent so many hours babysitting them when they were younger. They’re all good kids, and most of all, they’re funny. Even when they’re not trying to be.
Around 10 years ago, we were headed on a family trip to a lake in southwest Missouri. Driving down scenic highways in eastern Kansas, we pointed out historical markers, interestingĀ buildingsĀ and run-down ghost towns. The trip was full of laughs, as usual, but none could compare to what would happen on our way back. As we neared the outskirts of the lake, a …
Me and my Advertising Campaigns classmates senior year of college (many of us are still friends today). I thought I was on top of the world then. I had no idea. (I also have no idea why I struck some Peter Pan pose in the back.)
Me, in baggy jeans and cotton jacket, shuffling across the scuffed-up kitchen floor, singing, dancing, feeling more alive than I have in a long time. I scraped dried strawberry yogurt off the Little Tikes picnic table, and grumbled when I got some under my thumb nail (I hate that feeling), but still, I sang. I boiled a glass of water in the microwave, steaming off the splattered food particles that clung to the top and sides. Still, I sang. I sprayed, and wiped and swept…and sang. And danced. My …
My handsome grandfather. My hero.
Dear Grandad Patterson,
I never met you, but that didn’t mean I didn’t know about you. My dad talked about you all the time. Still does. He told me all about your heroism. He talked about how you went to war. He talked about how you never came home. At 26, you left a wife and three young children at home. But you also left a legacy. One of love, and one of loyalty to this great country you fought for. You died for. Thank you for your sacrifice. If it wasn’t for men and women like you, I might not be here. My children wouldn’t be here. You gave your life for me. For them. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Love,
Catherine
Let me start by saying this is NOT a post about my own mothers-in-law. They’re wonderful. I love them both. Now, let’s move on. š
Somehow, I’ve given the impression that I have valuable advice to give when it comes to family dynamics. While I’m flattered, I’m also surprised. I am blessed with strong family ties, but it’s through no good graces of my own. Nevertheless, I recently received a message from a distraught reader who needs some guidance handling a rather “overpowering” mother-in-law.
This reader may be putting this sign up soon. (image from: http://www.eurweb.com)
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Dear Mom on the Range,
The last time my in-laws came from out of town to stay with us for the weekend, my mother-in-law suggested before leaving that I hire a maid to clean my house. I was …
He’s pouring his heart out. But will you empty your pockets out? (image from nodepression.com)
When you stop to watch a street performer, whether it be a woman with a guitar, man with a harmonica, or group of teenagers doing beat box, are you offended if they have a tip jar? Or do you simply drop in a few coins if you’re entertained? Do you feel pressured? Do you find value in their performance? Do you find inspiration in their words?
Recently, I’ve seen a few “donation” or “tip” jar buttons on fellow blogger’s sites. My initial reaction? “Well, that’s strange.” But then, I began to think of my own blog. The stories I’ve told. The lives I’ve touched through my words. Yes, I do it for personal satisfaction and fulfillment, but it’s also a way …