Uplifting And Positive News
I’m getting a new set of boobs tomorrow. Uh oh. Have you just stepped into a classic case of over sharing? In a word, yes. This boob journey is one I never wanted to share. Didn’t want to share it with you. Really didn’t want to share it with the woman I consider my best friend. See, the boobs in question are not exactly mine. They’re hers. The Phone Call That phone call seven months ago where she said, “The
So, about that time I remembered my life changed…. A couple of precious gifts from neighbors showed up at my front door this week. No, not covered hot casseroles dishes so that I wouldn’t have to cook dinner. Though, that would’ve been nice. All contributions are always graciously accepted. This story starts with Eli. You know all that stuff you hear about what’s wrong with young people today? None of it is true about Eli. Here’s a young man who
And here you have the other side of journalism. We saw the awful, dark, and twisted mind at work last week when Alison Parker and Adam Wade were shot dead while doing a live shot in Roanoke, Virginia. Monday, two former employees manned the evening broadcasts. Retired anchor Keith Humphry stepped in. Meteorologist Andrew Freiden is now at a rival station, NBC12, but he got his start at WDBJ. They were backed up by crews from CBS’ national news operation
I fell this week. By that, I mean, I fell. Literally, fell. Flat. It happened as I was just starting a little run, jog, or “shuffle” as my kids call it. That’s when I spotted a neighbor watering his lawn. I turned to say hello, focusing on the pretty flowers instead of the sidewalk in front of me. That’s all it took. My big ol’ right foot caught a crack in the sidewalk and I launched. Felt like it took
Joy. Today, I’m thinking about joy. Joy, the name of the wife of good friend, Brian. Joy, the emotion instantly drained from Brian’s heart when he received that phone call a couple weeks ago. Maybe you’ve gotten one of those phone calls, Dear Reader. One with the worst news possible. While Brian was working out of town, Joy was involved in a single-car accident. He was on the next plane back home, staying by Joy’s side for 10 days. Stayed
Let me say, Dear Reader, that you are amazing. Wonderful. Clearly, you’re an over the top dog lover, like myself. The emails have been flooding in ever since I shared the latest chapter of my sweet Darla’s life in the column, “My Dog Is Teaching Me A Final Lesson.” I shared how my dog has been showing signs of slowing down, how she’s preparing me to let her go after more than 15 years together. I know, you can’t even
I am that lady in Seat 12B. Maybe even stuck in that middle seat of 27D. I’m that lady you’re trying to discreetly poke your travel partner. “Check out the woman over there,” you whisper. “She’s crying her eyes out.” Dear Reader, what is it about airplanes? The altitude? The recycled air? The isolation 36,000 feet above the ground? Whatever it is, I’m a goner. Just say, “Boo,” and I’ll start crying. Watching a movie, that on the ground would
My dog is getting me ready. She knows what’s coming in the way dogs know before we do. About a dangerous stranger, earthquakes, or bacon. She’s gently letting me know it will soon be time for her to go. It’s one of an infinite number of brilliant conversations I’ve had with my best friend. The friend who has never uttered a word in our more than 15 years together, but has taught me so much. “She’s not going anywhere,” Husband
You know those warm, fuzzy gushy feeling columns you read around Mother’s Day? I’ve written a few myself. (Like this and this.) Yeah, this isn’t one of those. Oh, it’s about motherhood, all right. But this one is more like hitting the motherhood panic button. A button I hit the other day while, don’t get too excited, sewing on a real button. A button that had fallen off one of my girls’ school uniforms. That’s when I realized– These children,
I’m slow. Hopelessly behind. Out of the loop. How about that for some fine negative catty self-talk? I figure it’s not catty, if it’s true. Simply reporting. I don’t have to go far to confirm and reinforce my theory. It’s a close as my computer. My computer, where years ago I joined Facebook. Facebook, where I post pictures of my life, links that I love, stay connected with “friends,” most of whom I don’t really know. Sounds like a huge
