When I was a child and my parents tried to ferret out which one of us was in trouble for a wrong, my dad always told me in his most stern voice not to “tell stories.” In the deep South that was a polite way of saying “don’t lie.”
One week of solitude and my epic fail at freedom
So much has been written about making friends as we age, but no one gives you a How To Manual or instructions.
Petal to the metal: On the hunt for my floral soul mate
I’ve been thinking about my favorite flower and how I no longer have one. As a child, I loved yellow roses. I’m not sure why, except that my mom’s favorite…
I’m back!
I’m thrilled to be back to writing a newsletter and talking directly to you, my friends. I missed you! I’m like a baby giraffe, wobbling around on my writing sea…