Thanks for stopping by.
She walks in the door after a day of meetings, appointments, disappointments and challenges. Before she pours a glass of red, she puts on her favorite pair of jeans – the ones with the threadbare knees. The cotton has softened with many washings, and now the fabric covering her thighs resembles suede more than denim. Continue reading →
Imagine how sweet this journey would be if we quit second-guessing every one of our decisions. What if we reveled in the things that went well for longer than we stewed over the things that went wrong. Continue reading →
“Mom, didn’t you say you were going to take us to a play about Camelot?” Continue reading →
So you say… that you wish you could find extra hours in the day to maybe carve out a compost pile in the backyard, learn to play the fiddle or compile all those photos into scrapbooks; yet you never miss an episode of your favorite TV show. Continue reading →

We’d gone in search of lavender fleece. We came home with jewelry making supplies, three unpainted birdhouses in need of jazz, and half a yard of turquoise fleece for, “You know, mom…. more projects.” Continue reading →
The rainy grey skies gave her permission to sink into the couch. Continue reading →
She could remember when seeing his name in her Inbox made her heart race with excitement. Now seeing his name in her Inbox made her palms sweat. She let the cursor hover over his name. She didn’t want to click to open his email.
She’d have to decide what to write back.
Did she even want to write back?
Being nice was her thing. She’d been supportive. She’d been there. She’d listened and responded.
Was there anything positive coming out of this relationship? If this was positive, why did it feel bad?
Were there healthier places to invest this energy?
Was she opening and answering emails because she was afraid there wouldn’t be another to come along.
She closed her laptop and stared out the window at the park.
__________
Her daughter came up and said, “Mom… are you interruptible? Can I ask you something?”
She looked into her daughter’s blue eyes and found the answer she’d been looking for:
She opened her laptop and deleted his email before opening it.
My breathing is loud. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. I can’t remember if this is the sixth or seventh lap. Continue reading →