In less than two months, I have recorded three new radio interviews, torn my home up in a remodeling frenzy, bought a work-in-progress business in Miami with new travel expenditures, and happened to witness the launch of Elon Musk’s first civilian space launch with Space X from Cape Canaveral.
If you haven’t read Kristin Hannah’s book The Nightingale, then you need to put it on your book list. This soon to be made into a movie book has everything, except maybe laughter.
It is hard to believe I have lived in my house for almost 30 years. When first moving in with a budding family, it didn’t seem big enough. Now, it’s too big.
At this stage of my life, I find many of my friends are downsizing . I too have contemplated a smaller place, but with my still-nagging ambition, and possible fallacy to believe “bigger is better,” I just can’t pull the trigger and move into a condo.
During our second Miami work week, Grady’s parents came to town.
Ann, having grown up on the beach in California, was energized by the childhood sensory memories created by the sights, sounds, and beach smells.
This week’s Girl’s Night Out (GNO) was at my house. Being the hostess of the evening, I get to loosely plan the menu and setting. Because COVID is on the rise, we, as a group, chose to be mindful of each other’s family health concerns by communing outside. And because I love games (remember the adult easter egg hunt?), at this GNO, we played croquet.
I sit outside all the time. I took note a few weeks ago when, for a brief moment, right at dusk, I felt an ever so slight wisp of cool air brush across my skin. This is when I began to take notice of the trees and saw they were feeling it, too.
My ex-husband, Ron Thompson, used to say I was the only person he knew that could wear ten colors below the ankle.
Last Independence Day happened to fall on Sunday, a day of worship for many Americans and, as usual, I was at ushering at Trinity Episcopal Cathedral that morning. Because of our country’s deep tension between worship and patriotism, I felt sorry for our dean who, in her sermon that day, had to find the balance between celebrating the gospel and nationalism. She found the common ground in the word “Freedom.”
A month ago, while flying home from Miami and landing in Atlanta, I felt a terrible pressure in my ear that had me close to screaming out loud. The pain was excruciating and left the right side of my face sore and achy for a few days.
It is that time of year again: when you find me hot, dirty and breaking my nails in our shipping department.
Kids complain about school and grown-ups complain about work. But, when gone from your life, you realize how much you miss the socialization and the opportunities that working and learning afford you.
Oh, it is so nice to be able to shake hands, hold babies, and eat out, again.
This week, an old friend and former roommate from my twenties came to stay at my house along with her daughter-in-law and two grandchildren.
This past Sunday proved to be an experiential lesson for me in America’s current social and global threats. And, as with all realizations, the more you learn, the more you realize you need to learn. It is never as simple as you would like it to be.
As I have written before, I don’t consider myself an influencer. But, every now and again, I feel obliged to share a shopping tip, like when I posted about easy and everyday-wear wrist weights I purchased.
During my ole’ lady swim class, I overheard a fellow participant complain that she was suffering mentally and blamed it on a lack of routine brought on by Covid-19’s restrictions. I told her I was suffering from just the opposite … too much routine.
This is hard to believe: I have been blogging since 2004! I used to blog once a month but, a few years back, my marketing staff pushed me to blog more and share my business knowledge.
I have never seen Arkansas’ local TV meteorologist, Barry Brandt, so happy. He appeared almost jubilant as he pointed to the snow-covered map and expounded on snowfall statistics that he clearly loves.
When I overheard my daughter telling someone that her “PJ game was strong,” I had to laugh and thought, “Right now, that’s true for everyone.” Gone are the days of dressing up and going out. Now, a big outing is masking up for a run to the grocery store and back home for a night of cooking or lounging in freshly washed PJ’s with a good book, hard puzzle, or mini-series on the boob tube (that’s a TV for you youngsters).
The CDC recommends not traveling unless you absolutely must; and if you must, be smart about it. Weighing these recommendations, I thought about my upcoming and necessary trip to Miami, Florida. Should I rent an RV and drive? With a pull-along bed, bath, and kitchen I could quarantine throughout the three day drive down. It seemed like a responsible way to travel.
How can I not talk about Wednesday’s siege on our Capital and its possible effect on the flag business?
I know buying a new car is a luxury, not an investment, but that does not keep me from purchasing one. Recalling the evolution of one’s cars is a lot like tracing the evolution of one’s life.
What good is a blog without honesty? Who wants to read about a perfect person living a perfect life? Personally, I want to watch the crazies: The Osbourne’s, Trump, and daytime Soaps. By watching other poor souls struggle and make mistakes, I feel better about my own actions and the crazy voice (I like to call Devil Speak) in my head.
For many of us, this Christmas will be different. As I sit and think about my growing grandchildren, I reflect on Christmases past.