Older white women will not leave my husband alone. There is something about him that makes women want him. They want him to find the avocados that are on sale. They would like him to reach something on the top shelf. 

My husband looks like everyone else in the supermarket. He… Read full post »

My eighteen year old daughter is getting a tattoo. It is just a matter of choosing the right one. After all, this is a decision of monumental importance. They don't rub off. 

I remember when she called them "tattoodles" and they came off in the bathtub. It often took more than… Read full post »

Sixth grade was my blue year. Blue not only as in sad, but blue as in the only color I wore.  I wore one blue dress. Every day.

It was the year of my parents divorce.  The damage had been done. I was a ten year old nervous wreck. The fighting,… Read full post »

Beanie Babies were all the rage in the '90's. They were the hottest thing to collect and everyone was collecting them. 

Our neighborhood toy store received a new shipment every few days and people lined up outside the door. No one waited until they were unpacked. The box was placed on… Read full post »

 If I put paint on a canvas, I would call myself a painter.

What is it about calling myself a writer that is so difficult?

I am a beginner. An amateur. I have never been paid for a piece I have written. Would a paycheck give me that right?

I… Read full post »

The annals of a life are stored in this heart.  There are the joys, the sorrows and the secrets.  

 The first boy I  loved put the first crack in it.  He had blue eyes and smelled like fresh hay.  He set his sights on a sheep farm and I fancied… Read full post »

When my daughter calls me Joan I know things are good. It means she is feeling her confident cheeky self.  Although at first I was taken aback, it makes me laugh. Call me Mom, I say. 

Sure, Joan, she replies with a sweet smirk I can hear over the phone.… Read full post »

 I am of a certain age and I am approaching invisible.  I am in the second act of life. 

It is a long way from the first act. Youthful and glowing and careless. The first act got me noticed, but not always for the right things.

This second act is limbo.… Read full post »

Dear Joanie,

Get back in that school right now. Don't walk away. You have two weeks before your high school graduation. 

I know it has not been easy. A family like the Cleavers would have been nice. 

It is hard to not feel loved. It is hard to be so misunderstood.… Read full post »

Two young interns for a local radio station stopped me yesterday with their "Man On The Street" question. I was pretty sure they would ask how satisfied I was with our city's snow removal job this winter or did I think the mayor was doing a good job. ("Not satisfied" and… Read full post »

I have known that I was getting old for several years now. The face in the mirror hints at it. More importantly, I know I am getting old because I am chronically annoyed.

If I had a yard I am quite sure I would be chasing kids off it. As it… Read full post »

Last night I dreamed I dyed my hair blonde and bought fresh squeezed lemonade from a funky little cafe.

I don't know where the dream took place.  Somewhere warm with vibrant colors.

I am cold and  buried under white. 

I want to put on my sundress and sandals.

Instead I… Read full post »

 I am sitting in the living room with a stranger.  I have lived with him for twenty years but I am not sure I recognize him these days.

When our only child left for college we mourned. We took care of one another's broken heart. It was a sweet time… Read full post »

Memories are like the stones along the river where my husband would explain to our then three year old daughter how to "skip" them.

"The smooth flat ones are perfect for skipping," he would patiently explain to her. She would find a bumpy, rough one and put it down having learned… Read full post »

My brother found my blog. An old one. The first place I ventured to put my thoughts in writing. I don't write there anymore but the stories are still there. He is angry.

It was much the same as this one. A place where I wrote about the things that are… Read full post »

The day my mother died I was at the doctor's office.  December 30, 1996. The first and last time I can ever remember having the flu.

A doctor from the nursing home called to say my mother would not make it to the evening. Did I know how to reach my… Read full post »

Women and their hair. No small matter. When our hair looks good much is right with the world. The trick is finding the hairstylist who makes it happen.  I have been thinking about the man who does indeed make it happen. A man who deserves a word of appreciation. Another kind… Read full post »

It is time for her to leave. Her flight back to the frigid Midwest is in a few hours. I feel that familiar ache in my heart.

When she left for college in September it was her father who cried. Right there in the freshman dorm room. I had done most… Read full post »

I was a medium sized trout on my last blogging site. Or at least a big mouth bass. I had quite a few followers, but in reality it was a really small pond. More of a puddle. 

On Open Salon, I am a guppy. And this is a huge body of… Read full post »