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I read a blog post yesterday that resonated with me. It began: Sometimes I wonder why I write a blog… Me too. It’s not like I change lives. Or even really make a huge difference. It’s not like I have a zillion followers. I’ve spent this past month thinking about my blog. Thinking about the…

I am, far too often, a judge-y shrew. Seriously: I frequently think that my advanced years, coupled w/ too much education, not to mention a boatload of books read, entitles me to offer comment to complete strangers. We won’t even go in to how often I say things to sons, nieces, nevvies, etc. There’s a fine line,…

My son made the most observant comment yesterday. He said he was glad to be out of the US for election year. And you know what? I wish I was. I am heartily sick of racism & jingoism masquerading as patriotism, of sexist slurs pretending to be valid critique, and of just plain mean-spiritedness. My…

My youngest son is readying for another adventure. One that involves rolled up clothes in duffel bags, a passport, and another continent. He can’t wait. By now, he’s at the airport. Or on a plane, happily off into the wild blue that called his father, his grandfathers. Given history, it will be at least a year…
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