Spring is in the air...and the smell of java...on my favorite Starbucks plastic.

The Sound and Smell of Starbucks

March 23, 2013 started with the sound of Sondra’s footsteps clacking across the upstairs bamboo floor.  Though she is just five feet tall, she moves through life as a force to contend with from early morning until midnight.  Seven days a week, the rhythm of her footsteps wakes me up and echoes to my soul that…

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The Business of Bathrooms

I’m just not a big fan of public restrooms. Roadside gas station latrines are at the top of my *eew* list.  I still don’t understand the ceremony of going t0 a surly cashier to ask permission for an obscenely giant-sized key that unlocks the outside door-around-the-corner.  Why d0 they lock up a room where the…

Sweater knit by Mom

There’s No Place Like Home

I must have looked like an episode of The Beverly Hillbillies, backing out of the Bloomfield driveway with an SUV haphazardly stuffed with everything but the kitchen sink.  After a jam-packed month moving truck loads of life, I lacked the obsessive/compulsive energy to carefully arrange the last of my possessions.  The comedy of the unorganized…

Footnotes

A few weeks ago during Sunday service the young girl in front of me was casually surfing the internet for new shoes via her iPad.  The Gestapo mom in me wanted to lean over, shut the laptop and say, “Don’t disrespect our pastor by shopping.  Give your feet a rest for a few hours.” I…

Words With Friends

Dear Megan, You’ve been gone four years.   I don’t miss the loneliness and isolation that accompanied your terminal illness, but I do miss your words, “Talk to me, Momoushka.” On this anniversary of your death, here’s the Chat Soup that you love. I have a “Words With Friends” boyfriend.  Maybe you don’t know about Words…