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A Meaningful Mess
“Hey babe, where are those reports you ran for me?” “On your desk.” Very few three-word combinations strike as much unrest in me as these three. Maybe “You’re dead meat.” Or “I hate you” followed by a sneer and growl. Possibly “You owe me” depending on what the presumed payment needed to be. “On your…
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When My Good Enough Isn’t
Folks whose faces are wreathed with smiles bring out the grins in me. Happy often produces more happy. My grandkids are pros at producing big-mouth smiles that can warm the cockles of even the coldest heart. Five live close to us. The other four are far, far away. It’s hard not to see them more…
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The Right Signature On The Bottom Line
I don’t sleep well when I have to get up early. I get panicky that I’ll sleep through the alarm, and anyone who’s depending on me to be responsible will be disappointed. Type A’s have it hard. Thursday I got out of bed at 3 a.m., not needing to leave the house till 5:30 to get Deb…
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Puttin’ On My Happy Face–Or Not
Nineteen-year-olds are full of life, ambition and possibilities. For the most part. My nineteen-year-old is on her last legs. She’s not wearing her age well, though she looks presentable. Her life is ebbing, and possibilities are the least of her concerns. This would be concerning if I spoke of a person. It’s my car. We’ve…
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My Way’s Better Than The Highway, Right?
Living in close proximity to Cape Canaveral, we’ve seen rocket launches from our neighborhood. The spectacular contrail of smoke and fire can be seen for miles. Then the first stage drops off in a fiery flare. Like jettisoning life stages as we move to the next. Ryken will be two in a few days; his…
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Tip of My Iceberg 