One of my friends, Esther, sends an e-mail to a group of us declaring, “Hello, Beautiful(s). Excuse me while I disappear!”
“What? Wait!” Judy demands in a return group e-mail. She’s the most assertive of my college friends who have stayed in touch through so many years. “Listen to the wisdom of the Silver Sisters. Us, your friends for years! Or use your own constructive thinking. You’ll feel better when the rain ends. Otherwise, there’s no coming back from this decision.” Continue reading
I never go to a mall during the holidays. I rarely go any other time either, but the month of December is decidedly off limits.
Except for today. It’s a few days after Christmas and I still haven’t bought “the” sweatshirt that my 15-year-old grandson wants.
It’s not a special sweatshirt. Continue reading
The day is dark, as in pitch black, and it’s only 5 p.m. I’ve had a full day – yoga and meditation at 6 a.m., 500 words for my short story by 8 a.m., dance class by 9, grocery shopping by 10:30. I baked cookies for the neighbor and prepared a casserole for dinner.
Now, I peer longingly at the claw-footed bathtub in my master bathroom and think – “yes, I deserve this.” Continue reading
Denise had two things on her mind: carrots and Carl.
Carl loved carrots. Carl hadn’t talked to Denise in two weeks, three days, and 14 hours, and the only thing on Denise’s mind was to bake a carrot cake that would make Carl come back to her. Continue reading
“In fact, if you could forget mortality, and that is less easy here than in most places . . . you could really believe that stories change you, enliven you, even send you off: off to a different world; off from your troubles and problems; off to a place where you don’t feel your age, or arthritic pain, or the devil chasing you from behind.”
“Okay, Granny, okay!” I interrupt, “I believe you!” My Great Gran, 94 years old, or as she says, 94 and ½ friggin’ years, begins this lecture to me almost every time I visit her.
roughwighting 