My mother is radioactive. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her. She’s dozing in a recliner, and the only hint that something is wrong is the sign on the door which reads “Caution: Radioactive… What we never wanted to find
There’s no month quite like January. It wants us awake at the stroke of midnight for parties, fireworks, a kiss, and a toast to the New Year. But then it steamrolls in at daybreak with… A kinder, gentler January
When I was a free-range kid in the early 80s, I had a Pink Panther bicycle – also known as the coolest bike a girl could have in that day and age. I rode it… Making the most of the coast
What some people call “the most wonderful time of the year” can also be the most exhausting. With all the extra events, shopping, cleaning, cooking, traveling, hosting and more, it can make us want to… How to be a gangsta wrapper for Christmas
It started with a limp. What we’d hoped was just a muscle sprain in the dog’s hind leg lingered for two months, landing us in the office of a veterinary orthopedic surgeon for x-rays. Those… Limping into December
One of the things my dad taught me about the working world is that it’s always good to have “multiple revenue streams.” That way, if one stream dries up or slows to a trickle, you’ll… Tales of a freelance flocker
More than 20 years ago, Tom gave me a gift certificate for an hour-long massage as an anniversary gift. I’d never had a professional massage before. (Women don’t count the one-handed massages men sometimes give… How to be the best kind of noodle
On my desk, there are three essential things – my laptop, a computer mouse, and a no-frills, lined pad of paper. Without the computer and mouse, nothing could get done. But without that humble pad… How to love people and productivity at the same time
There should probably be a warning on this column because it’s graphic, and if your stomach is as weak as mine, perhaps you should turn back now and save yourself. If you’re still with me,… Peanut Butter Sandwich Salvation
It finally happened. After a stifling summer in the broiler, fall temperatures dipped to a crisp, cool 58 degrees. And that meant it was time for the annual changing of the closet. This won’t come… A closet love affair