I Bought A Bigger House So I Would Entertain More: Time to Downsize

If I knew you were coming, not only would I not have baked a cake, I probably would’ve pulled the blinds shut as you were moseying up the walkway. That’s how much I hate to entertain. Anyone. Even Bradley Cooper. Especially Bradley Cooper. Don’t get me wrong: he’s more than welcome in my house (and in my bed), but he better not be looking for me to cook him anything....more

Why Do Coffee Klatsches and Married Couples Clash?

It’s not always for coffee though that’s what we seem to call it: a coffee date. Sometimes we meet for lunch, occasionally for group exercise, rarely for happy hour, but always with the intention of catching up, venting and renewing our friendship. But what’s interesting to me, is that these coffee friends of mine, some of whom don’t even drink coffee, rarely cross over into my couple’s life. It’s like there are daytime friends and nighttime friends and sometimes, like in a Venn Diagram, the two converge, but often they don’t and I’m left to wonder why....more

When I Hear "Brackets" I Think Orthodontia, Not Basketball

And then there were two. Actually, as you are reading this, one team has already been crowned a winner, but as of this writing, I am eagerly anticipating tonight’s final game between a basketball team I don’t give two licks about and another basketball team whose home state eludes me. Why the eager anticipation then? So that this basketball madness can finally be over with and life as we know it can resume, madness and all....more

The Magic Doesn't Happen in the Bedroom...It Happens in the Basement

He was our own Paul Bunyan. A diminutive man who had never once donned plaid nor felt the heft of an axe in his smooth hands, and yet, he loomed large in our minds. We had only to venture to the lower level of our 1960s-built ranch home to see his mastery at work. What was once a rectangular, cavernous space, cinder walls teeming with spiders and pockmarks, cold concrete floors begging for big wheels, became a fully-functioning space in his hands. Nothing fancy for my father. Divide and conquer was his motto. A wall separated the space in two, a clear delineation of work space and play....more

The Key to Successful French Cooking? Butter Up Everything, Including the Proctor

It was all Greek to her. Recipes with names like Blanquette d’Agneau au Vin Blanc and Thon Grille Sauce Vierge left my daughter completely flummoxed. Even the translations were Greek to her: Lamb Stew in White Wine and Grilled Tuna with Herbed Tomato and Lemon Sauce; her four years of high school French had done little to instill any faith in her speaking abilities, let alone her cooking abilities. But it mattered none....more

Holding Hands: More Intimate than a Kiss, More Powerful than a Hug

Throughout the years, my mother often quoted lines from Robert Fulghum’s famous piece of writing All I Really Need To Know I Learned in Kindergarten. Not a day went by where we didn’t hear, “Wash your hands before you eat” (a nod to #8 and sound advice for sure). But she especially liked #13: When you go out into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands, and stick together. I especially liked the one listed above it: Take a nap every afternoon. But the older I am getting, the more I have come to appreciate her choice....more

Is There Such a Thing as Overstepping When it Comes to Suicide?

If only it were as easy as a song lyric by The Fray, “Step one, you say we need to talk.”  If there were a play-by-play on how to save a life, a manual to consult, anything that might point you in the right direction. But there is no specific Step One. Saving a life, or trying to save a life, is like standing on dry land and watching an unsteady ship not so far from shore list from one side to the other, taking on water as it sways. You can see that the ship and its passenger are in peril, but you feel powerless to do anything....more

The Only Path Through Pain is Straight Through It

My sister is the queen of shortcuts. The shortcuts involving an automobile, that is. She’ll find every back road, every right turn that prevents a left, every roundabout tucked in a sleepy neighborhood, anything to prevent going from Point A to Point B in a traditional path. To her, it’s not about the time saved, but about the puzzle she creates and then solves; the circuitous route is the one best traveled in her world. It makes me want to scream, and throw up. All those twists and turns, and mountainous speed bumps leave me both queasy and frustrated....more

Are You Close to Your Teenage Daughter?

It was the 64,000-dollar-question, or in our case, the 127-dollar-question. After an hour of primping, of tedious makeup application and careful color consideration, it was time to pay for all the fun. I expected the tally. After all, my daughter and I completely bought into the subtle sales pitch: ...more

My Husband Needs Google Maps for the Grocery Store

One of our favorite books when the kids were young was If You Give A Mouse A Cookie. The if/then scenario played to their rebellious side and the circuitous story reminded us parents of how life often eventually comes full circle, how one day it may be our children who are tucking us into bed with a good bedtime story. And though it is a tale that has been long tucked away in an old bookcase somewhere in our musty basement, the message of continuity was never clearer than when I sent my husband to the grocery store last week....more