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Have you heard my rattle? The one that’s driving me crazy? It’s happening in my new car. Well, not that new. The car’s about a year and a half old. Old enough to start with quirks. Too new, if you ask me, to already have a rattle. When I take the car out on the highway and get it up to speed, it sounds like the right front passenger window starts to rattle. Only it doesn’t. See, it’s not the
In case you were wondering— The lady running around last weekend from one end of the metro area to the other in what can best be described as “Mom High Fashion of Shame.” Yeah, that was me. How shall I best describe my outfit? T shirt that I had slept in, so big it would still be loose on King Kong. Sweats from 1984, or thereabouts with stains and holes to match. Plastic Croc sandals. Uncombed hair half up in a clip.
Might as well start with the good news. The experts tell me they expect my organ transplant to be a success. Kidney? Lungs? Heart? So much more serious. The extension of my body known as— My laptop. That lifeline to the internet, that link to my email, that toolbox for my writing. My digital bodily extension ended up this week in the computer hospital for emergency surgery. The crisis started with something so simple— A tall, refreshing glass of iced
Please catch my newspaper column each week in the Atlanta Journal Constitution, the Dayton Daily News and other newspapers across Ohio. Here’s this week’s column: Well, hello there, New Year you, who promises to be 12 months, 365 days, 8,766 hours, 525,948,766 of mess. It’s not that I’m starting the year as a Negative Nelly. It’s actually more about being grateful for what and who I have, which leads to reality, which in my case, and perhaps yours, means accepting life is messy. Anyone
