The story behind the advent of Easter fascinates me.
I was raised Southern Baptist, so am familiar with the religious accounting of the death and resurrection of Jesus. Continue reading “Chocolate bunnies and atonement”
Category: death
Uprooted
Just when you feel that your life may be on track, fate, the gods, or happenstance steps in front of you and waves its fat, jiggly arms.
I posted last week about tackling some of my late husband’s belongings in the bedroom. It was a mistake. Continue reading “Uprooted”
Widow ‘hood
I am surrounded by widows.
Not in the metaphorical sense or by friends or family, but physically in my neighborhood.
Dead batteries
Who among you likes to take down and put away holiday decorations? I didn’t think so.
I had thought the second Christmas of widowhood would be easier, but I was dead wrong. Continue reading “Dead batteries”
Sparkle balloons
According to Wicca philosophy, “the power of the moon cannot be overstated.”
Now, before you think I’m getting all “woo-woo,” I wanted to lead with that thought as it relates to a recent excursion I had with some friends when we attended a Moon Group led by a Wiccan High Priestess.
Vroom
When I turned 50, I told my husband I wanted to commemorate hitting the half century mark by either getting a tattoo or a motorcycle.
A case of the onesies
In the South, you don’t go grocery shopping; you go “tradin’.”
And those four-wheeled caged contraptions you push up and down the aisles to transport your goods out to the car are not shopping carts, they’re called “buggies.”
The tarnished years
Back in the late ’50’s, some savvy, “Mad Men” type advertising execs came up with a catchy phrase to sell real estate in the Arizona desert to the older set. Continue reading “The tarnished years”
Where there’s smoke
I smell smoke. All the time.
At first, I thought maybe one of the folks who live in the house next door were sneaking outside for an illicit butt, and the smell had wafted over to my house, invading my nostrils.
‘You have a smudge…right…there
My friend and I went over to her mom’s place this week to cleanse her apartment.
I don’t mean “clean,” I mean, help her give the old heave-ho to some evil spirits lurking in her bedroom.
Grief is an annoying houseguest who won't leave 