No matter how carefully we back up, we still run into a memory.
Or a car.
That’s what happens to me this week. I stop at the parking lot and run into the post office to buy some stamps.
I race back to my car. The thermometer reads 22 degrees, but with the wind chill, the meteorologist reports that it feels like 5.
The cold snap snaps me back to the winter I cross-country skied with my friend’s husband in Minnesota. Continue reading
While spending some vacation time together, my wise 7-year-old granddaughter and I waxed philosophically as we walked oceanic trails overlooking whales and dolphins.
Earlier, her grandfather noted that we might get caught in a rainstorm if we strolled for too long. “Oh, what a pessimist,” I teased him. “If it showers, then we’ll get to see rainbows.”
“What’s a pessimist?” Sophie asked me. 
Continue reading
I know I’m a pain to my family.
They’re nice enough to not call me that to my face, but I see the roll of the eyes, the shrug of their shoulders.
I don’t want to be self-righteous about eating healthy, and god knows I don’t use those two words together:
EATING. HEALTHY.
But. Continue reading
This Valentine’s poem is in response to the blog contest by Susanna Leonard Hill, children’s author and blogger. The rules are simple: in 214 words or fewer, entrants must write a Valentine’s Day story or poem for children ages 12 and under, where one of the characters is grumpy. Special thanks to Mike Allegra and his fabulous grumpy cupid for encouraging me to enter. Continue reading
My first reaction when the new marketing director suggested that I sell myself surprised me.
“Why didn’t I think of that?” I asked.
I was being facetious. I hope.
“Because you’re not in charge of marketing and promotion,” M answered with a self-satisfied smile. She was as serious as a successful sale.
We had bonded immediately upon M’s employment as the second woman hired in a non-secretarial positon at the company.
Six months earlier, I had become the first female in the northeast office to sell outdoor advertising space.
Now, each morning when M and I arrived at 8:30, the doors of the bleak old building flew open to our new ideas, fresh enthusiasm, and bold determination to “make it” in a men’s only enclave.
Continue reading
roughwighting 