News you can use
News you can use
Sorted by date Results 226 - 250 of 252
I want to start out by making it clear that I have nothing against cowboys. One of the new developments in my life is that I recently got a manager, Bob, to book performances of my writing. I’ve never had a manager before, so I didn’t know what to expect. But Bob is a wonderful fellow. He says he thinks of the folks he represents as family — which is something a lot of people say, but I get the feeling Bob actually means it. So, I was eager to keep Bob happy. But then he su...
“What do you think?” my husband, Peter, asked about the link he’d sent me as we prepared to head home from the holidays. “The funeral home?” I asked. “Yeah, that one.” “I thought it was a joke.” “No, it’s right on our way.” “We’re going to spend the night in a funeral home?” “It’s very inexpensive!” I suddenly felt like I was in the opening scene of every horror film I’d ever watched. Peter wanted us to spend the night in a historic funeral home on our way home. The funeral ho...
I glanced up as the bells rang to herald new customers walking into the used clothing store. I was looking for a pair of warm dress pants. Visiting my parents in Minnesota, I had forgotten entirely about the possibility of extreme cold and the idea of going out that night in tights and a skirt seemed preposterous. Luckily, I found a like-new pair of black jeans with just a little sparkle on the pocket for a good price. I was wandering around the store with these jeans in my...
I went with my parents to get a Christmas tree. All the trees were wearing hangtags shaped like bells and all the bells had hand-lettered names on them. At first, I assumed these trees were spoken for and the names indicated the person who had reserved the tree. Then I realized that, no, the names were for the trees. This was a fancy place and apparently, when you spend as much as this store was charging for a tree, the tree came complete with a name. Actually, for what they...
It is the tender cusp of Christmas. It is that time when emotions run close to the overfill point, when sentimentality and anger and depression and euphoria mix freely together, with not enough space between them to tell the difference from one moment to the next. I am visiting my parents — and of course this does not help. My parents are doing well (thank you for asking). They are in their 80s now, still living in their dream cabin in the woods and, although I know they a...
“People have been asking about the squeaking of the ship,” our captain reported, somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, “but I must tell you, this is nothing to worry about.” He then proceeded to explain how a ship needed to give in heavy swells, just as an airplane had to flex during flight. “Otherwise,” he explained cheerfully, “the ship would snap in two!” I’m not sure this was the reassurance worried passengers were looking for. My husband, Peter, and I are on the seco...
My husband, Peter, and I are returning from Spain by boat. The whole idea started when Peter read a book about the sinking of the Lusitania. “That sounds like fun!” Peter told me, as he read. “Death at sea?” I asked. “No, the part before that!” Peter clarified. Peter thought the idea of a cross-Atlantic ship sounded fun and romantic. He began investigating transatlantic trips and once Peter starts investigating a thing, it’s as good as done. Peter discovered that a number...
I lost a feather the other day and I understand this does not qualify as news. But I want to say — for the record — that this was a really nice feather. I paid good money for it and pinned it to my favorite blue hat. I wore that hat out for a walk, one evening, when it was chilly. This was the last night that my husband, Peter, and I were in Frigiliana, a little town in the south of Spain. I walked to the top of the very steep hill where, 400 years ago, a Moorish castle sto...
“I like the edge season!” my husband, Peter, said, as we watched the moon rise over the mountains and felt a chill breeze rise with it. As far as I know, Peter invented this expression. He might have meant the “season’s end,” but I like the idea of the “season’s edge” better. Peter and I are staying in the south of Spain and, even here, the season is changing. Restaurants that have been open all summer and fall are finally giving their employees a few days off. Menus are...
My husband, Peter, and I have settled into the little house we are calling home for a month in southern Spain. The house is old and quirky — but I’ve come to believe that all homes are quirky in their own way. Whenever I spend time in another person’s home, I realize there are a lot of different ways of doing things that would never have occurred to me. When I was young, my family would drive to visit my great-grandmother. She had a neighbor named Mrs. Johnson (I never learn...
First, I noticed the owl. “Peter! Did you see the owl?!” Our last Airbnb in Spain had a ceramic owl. So, when I found a similar owl—in a similarly inconvenient location—I took it as a good omen. “What owl?” my husband, Peter, said. Then I found four more owls, bringing our tally up to five. “Five owls! Now I know this is going to be a good trip!” “Huh,” Peter agreed. (Sometimes Peter’s not as effusive as I am.) We are staying in Frigiliana, a small town in the south of Spain...
When my husband, Peter, and I met, we each had a dog. Peter had a collie named “The Pretty Boy,” (Yes, “The” was part of his name) and I had a pound puppy, part golden retriever, part border collie mix named “Milo.” The Pretty Boy died shortly before we were married, about five years ago, and Milo died just over a year ago. We talk about getting a new dog, of course, but all the good reasons not to have a dog prevail. Extended travel — actually travel of any kind — is enormous...
Peter and I are packing for our annual trip again. My husband, Peter, is retired and I write, so we are able to travel now. Getting married late in life, this might have posed some problems because Peter is exactly the opposite sort of traveler I used to be. "I'm packing two separate bags - one for Spain and one for on the way there," Peter informs me. "This will mean some duplication, but it will simplify things when it's time to fly!" Peter is obviously pleased with...
I realized that I might be a late bloomer — a little late, naturally. I love hearing about proteges: the 5-year-old drummer or the 16-year-old activist. I love hearing the 9-year-old who sings like an old soul and reading about the 14-year-old who just completed a master’s degree. I marvel at all these amazing accomplishments. I am impressed with the laser-like focus of these children and teenagers that enables them to change the world in awe-inspiring ways. I was never one...
Peter was up before anyone else - as he often is. My husband, Peter, gets up early in order to have enough time to brood before busybodies like me expect him to engage in cheerful conversation. But this morning we were staying at my parents' cabin and there was a glitch in the plans. The coffee jar was empty. Obviously, a person can't brood without coffee. Peter quietly opened one cupboard after another. No coffee. My parents are great planners so there was no chance they...
I told my husband, Peter, that our marriage was like stew — and that’s a good thing. This is a second marriage for both Peter and me. We were both married for a long time and then divorced for quite a while. We dated other people and realized how tricky the whole process of finding a new partner was, after habits had been set and preferences settled. When I met Peter, I was ready … I think. I had healed and spent time on my own and figured out who I was — single and over 50...
They say that blessings come in disguise. If so, my blessings are poorly disguised. They show up wearing false noses and funny eyeglasses and are instantly recognizable unless I am being completely thick-headed — and it is astonishing how often I am. I had a really bad year a few years back when I lost my husband and my job and my home in rapid succession. All of this happened while I was living in Nigeria (which was not great to begin with). I realized immediately that this w...
I was not popular in high school. Everyone says this. I now realize that no one — not even the most popular person in high school — self-identifies as popular. Lately I’ve been getting a lot of Facebook friend requests from people I scarcely knew in high school. I have a 40th class reunion coming up next year and I’ve been getting friend requests from people who, I am quite sure, would not have recognized me walking down the hall in high school. In their defense, I was par...
I spent the last couple weeks visiting my parents. I’ve been lucky in the parent department. It’s fashionable to recall some pivotal incident that occurred when we were eight and extrapolate how every difficulty experienced in our life since is a result. But I’ve never seen any truth to this in my own life. I was really happy when I was 8 — and I give my parents full credit. My life is very different from my parents’ life. Still, they have always been supportive and have alwa...
She wore it for one day in 1919 and it looked as if it was sewn with this in mind. My grandma’s wedding dress was more than a little worse for wear. It had been folded up in a small box and kept safe by my cousin, Jill. (How Jill ended up with it, I do not know.) I’m guessing the dress was sewn by a relative of my grandma’s, maybe a sister or one of her many cousins. There was no lining, no reinforcement of any seam. There were raw edges inside. Much of the dress was held toge...
The surprises just kept coming. When I moved in with Peter a few years back, I brought my clothes, a few books, and some artwork. I rented out my house, gave away my furniture, and everything else was consigned to “things I’ll deal with later,” a pile which — mysteriously — did not shrink with time. These stacked plastic boxes were still in my barn, still waiting for me, long after I’d forgotten what was in them or cared. But I am going to put the property up for sale and it...
Nobody was using the old wren house. My grandfather built it. Grandpa started building birdhouses when he retired from milking cows and his second oldest son took over. That son, my mother’s brother, is now 87 and retired 20 years ago. It’s a pretty old birdhouse. “My dad never built fancy birdhouses,” my mother explained. Grandpa put on a tarpaper roof and, if you needed to clean it out, you had to unscrew the back. But they were sweet little birdhouses, painted bright...
I’ve been having my husband, Peter, cut my hair. I’m not sure I would recommend this to everyone, but I have almost no hair. Actually, I have the usual number of hairs, but they are so fine that a hair that falls from my head into the sink is invisible to the naked eye. Peter cuts his own hair and kept insisting he could cut mine. I was waiting weeks to get an appointment with a stylist and, when I finally got in, pay an extraordinary amount per milligram of hair cut. The hai...
It was my birthday this week. Those of you with summer birthdays know it’s a little different. In the middle of March, everyone says, “Wow! A birthday party!” You bring treats to school and everyone is happy for an excuse to celebrate. It’s different for the summer kids. Everyone is already busy with vacations and visitors and then, somewhere in the middle of all that, someone says, “Oh! It’s Carrie’s birthday, isn’t it?” My birthday was particularly unreliable becaus...
I’m having fun singing. I started singing lessons a few weeks ago. My teacher lives out of town, but every other week she teaches in her parents’ house — the house she grew up in — just a few minutes away. So, I drive to a little house in the suburbs, meet her parents’ two friendly little dogs, (“More people! So exciting!”) and take an hour-long voice lesson in my teacher’s childhood bedroom. I stand next to an auxiliary refrigerator, put my purse on a storage cabinet, and fa...
