- Howell, Michigan, USA
- February 17
- Maria Stuart is an award-winning journalist and freelance writer. She lives in Michigan with her husband, their teenage son, and Ted, the hyper labradoodle who keeps her from sitting at the computer too long. You can check out her website at mariastuart.com or TheLivingstonPost.com. Follow @mariastuart on Twitter.
MY RECENT POSTS
- The Beatles and my boy
September 09, 2013 08:47AM
- So glad I accepted The
Doctor's house call
August 02, 2013 03:43PM
- I am acrophobe, hear me scream
(for Nik Wallenda)
June 24, 2013 07:45PM
- Snow slows the hands of time
February 08, 2013 09:43AM
- The angel wore sparkling shoes
January 09, 2013 06:27PM
MY RECENT COMMENTS
- “RIP. Your distinct and
powerful voice will be
August 05, 2013 07:44AM
- “Countdown to the
announcement of the new
Doctor! 2 pm Sunday
August 04, 2013 12:58AM
- “Sheila - Just found out
they're announcing the new
BBC America on
August 02, 2013 04:02PM
- “@shebasilisk - Don't be
sorry! I was so enjoying all
January 10, 2013 02:24PM
- “Kathy - I'm betting you
smile every time you look at
August 15, 2012 08:56PM
Maria Stuart's Links
My father was a terrible speller. A voracious reader with a brilliant mind, he had some incomplete synapse in his brain that kept him from stringing together letters correctly to make words. If he were alive, he’d never, ever understand my affinity for Words With Friends.
For… Read full post »
I think back on the turning points in my life. Among the traditional ones — first car, first job, marriage, baby — I remember my induction into the cult of Mac, and I pay my respects to Steve Jobs.
At the time, I had no idea who Steve Jobs was.… Read full post »
The best Super Bowl ad wasn’t really an ad at all. At its heart, the beautifully filmed “Imported from Detroit” ad featuring Eminem, the Chrysler 200, and some of Detroit’s amazing art and architecture, is a love song for the city in which I was born.
When I began dating the man who would become my husband, he corrected my spelling of his last name.
“It’s not S-T-E-W-A-R-T,” he said. “It’s S-T-U-A-R-T. The ‘royal’ spelling.”
Without anything more than a gut feeling, my husb… Read full post »
My 11-year-old son was invited to the most important social event for sixth graders, a sleepover birthday party, and instead of being thrilled his mother is concerned about his safety, he is, instead, embarrassed.
Too bad… Read full post »
We’ve had a mystery rock in our house since my 11-year-old spent a week at my sister’s place Up North in Michigan
It’s not a rock, really, but a geode, an outer shell that’s hiding crystals and mineral formations inside.
The word “geode” comes from… Read full post »
“Can’t I just stay up until dad gets home,” he always whines. Seeing his father before he goes to bed is important to Will, and he drives a hard bargain: “I’ll go to bed extra… Read full post »
Days like today are the gods’ gift to the unemployed, for it is on days like this — days rich with light, color and texture — that those of us struggling in the wake of joblessness give thanks.
Days like this don’t come around often, and that… Read full post »
There was a time in my life when I got every job I wanted, every single one. From scooping ice cream to waitressing to office work to writing, if I wanted the job, I got it.
I thought myself kind of special, talented for sure. It felt… Read full post »
I admit it: I shed a teeny, tiny tear this morning as my only child rode his bike out of the backyard on his way to the new adventure in his life: middle school.
This morning, he actually told me he “appreciated” the breakfast I made… Read full post »
Police say 4-year-old Dominick Calhoun was tortured to death by his mother’s boyfriend in the spring.
At the end of March, Dominick’s 25-year-old mother moved with him and his 8-year-old brother into the apartment of her boyfriend, a 24-year-old ex-con who was a couple mo… Read full post »
I sat outside with a cup of coffee last week, soaking in the early summer sun and pondering the greater meaning of the not-so-perfect perfect baseball game pitched by Detroit Tiger Armando Galarraga. For those of you unfamiliar with the baseball call heard ’round the world, Galarraga&rsqu… Read full post »
I lost my newspaper job a little over a year ago. It was a job I loved, but a job that could, at times, leave my psyche stressed and my shoulders sore. Cradling a phone on one shoulder and hunching over a computer on deadline wreaks havoc… Read full post »
“If only my dad could be here to see this,” I told my husband… Read full post »
“Da, da, da, da-da, da-da-da,” my 10-year-old son sang the other night as he played with his Legos on the dining room table. His singing was a counterweight to detailed work, a pleasant way to add a constructive distraction to the task of building a tiny rebel spaceship out of… Read full post »
I’m moving forward, really and truly. I put one foot in front of the other every morning, and I shuffle through my days. I am busy, busier than I ever felt when… Read full post »
On the night before President Obama’s speech at West Point, my 10-year-old son, Will, padded downstairs long after he should have been asleep.
“What’s the matter,” I asked as he sat beside me on the couch.
“I keep having bad dreams,” he said. “I drea… Read full post »
But that’s the… Read full post »
Bruce Springsteen got snubbed. So did Bonnie Raitt, Elvis
Costello, Elton John, Patti Smith, Nancy Wilson, Helen O'Connell,
Tom Petty and Grace Slick.
These amazing artists didn't make the final list of nominees for National Public Radio's project to explore what listeners and music experts… Read full post »
After scrubbing up like a surgeon and donning an old apron to protect his clothes, my 10-year-old son is ready for action. He’s pounded the chicken and beaten the eggs and he’s ignited the gas stove with a little help from me.
He’s ready to cook.
Me? I’m enjoying… Read full post »
I sat at the dining room table, stitching together the King Tut toga I had promised my kid for Halloween, when I burst into tears.
We bought the Egyptian pharaoh hat at the King Tut exhibit in Indianapolis this summer on one condition: that it be Will's Halloween… Read full post »
I found myself having to explain to my son the difference between being “fired” and being “laid off” after I lost my job on April Fools Day. (Some corporate overlord has an ironic sense of humor, eh?)
“You get fired for doing a bad job,” I told him. “Don&rsq… Read full post »
There isn’t enough room to keep a lot of CDs in my car, so I rotate them in and out. My musical whims are like Michigan’s mercurial weather: they change from moment to moment, mood to mood.
When I was purging my household for my annual… Read full post »
These past few days have been mostly dedicated to getting ready
for my yard sale, the culmination of the purge of my household.
Surrounded by stacks of things to be tagged and sold, I had to take
time out to file for unemployment.
I’ve been laid off from my newspaper job since… Read full post »