MS. SIMPLICITY Cheese Buttons From The Rock Roof Inn
Some of the best cookbooks I own are the ones that churches compile. The problem is that you only have a couple of weeks to buy the cookbook and if you miss your chance, too bad, so sad. Well when I... Posted on 2/2/11 at 7:03 PM
So it’s been one year. It has been 365 days (plus change) since I first learned my marriage was over. In some ways, I can’t believe this time has passed. In other ways, I feel like I’ve crammed a decade of experiences into one slender fragment of time.
Divorce is hard on the self-esteem. It’s hard to feel great about yourself after someone else has gone to great lengths – taking legal action, if necessary – to disengage from you. But my self-worth recently got a huge boost.
Earlier this year, I was planning to visit my sisters in Florida.
While carving out the logistics, Bertha mentioned that I probably would stay with my sister Mabel during the week. The reason: She had to help her daughter, Pearl, prepare for a science fair.
It’s called the Sister Code. It is that unspoken, undocumented list of rules silently adopted by siblings who grew up under the same roof, fought over the same Foreigner records and raided each other’s closets.
Yes, we all have things from our younger years that we regret.
I certainly do.
My decision to take a data punch-card entry class in high school. My asymmetrical haircut phase during college. My slavish devotion to Whitesnake.
But the Granddaddy of All Questionable Youthful Choices may have been my decision to get a “glamour shot.”
When I go home to visit, I feel a bit like a slouch. I’m schlumping around the house with crazy-cat-lady hair and pajama pants at noon, while my mother can be found cooking breakfast at 8 a.m. in full makeup, a well-matched outfit and carefully coiffed hair.
This winter has been for the dogs. Actually, it’s been too cold for the dogs. Pet owners keep receiving warnings that the ice, rock salt, wind and marrow-freezing cold are simply too much for our domesticated pooches.
Everyone should have a friend like Penelope in their lives. When we first met in the early ’90s, we were both young, single women, just starting out in our professional lives. We reconnected a few years later, after realizing we’d both moved into the same building.
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