Old School Posts

• Moving Day

  We move into our new home today! If I have an ounce of energy left by this evening and I can find my camera in the sea of boxes, I will do my best to post some nifty pictures of the new place. If I do not get my photographic act together (very likely), have a wonderful weekend!

• Do You Love Your Life?

  Stop. Step back. Squint. Look at the landscape of your life. Do you like what you see? Do you love what you have? Too often, we get mired in the micro. In the drudgery and dust of our days. In the exhaustion and the exasperation that glosses existence. It is all too rare that we look at the b

• On Chaos, Order & Haircuts

  In theory, I covet an existence of order and organization. A world of lists that get done, calendars that get checked, schedules that get stuck to, thank-you notes that get written and sent, meals that get made, emails that get returned, coats that get hung... You get the picture. In practice

• Bath Time

  Friday again. Time for my weekly update on the Happy Headache (a.k.a. the untimely-given-this-recession-gut-reno of our new place). This week, as you might have guessed from the above glorious pic, I'm talking tubs. I've never been a big bath person. I've always been a loyal fan of the quick

• An Important Weekend

  This past weekend, Husband was away in Buffalo for his cousin's wedding. After much deliberation and ultimate deference to overwhelming instinct, I opted to stay home with my girls. I'm so glad I did. To say that this past weekend was an important one is both hyperbole and a bit of an un

• I Hate You

  Calm down. I don't hate you. I don't even know you. Or maybe I do. But still. I don't hate you. I don't think I even know what it means to hate something. So. No. I don't hate you. So. Yes. The title of this post was a bit of a cheap trick to provoke you into reading my prose. Did it work? Yes?

• Fifteen Years

  Tomorrow night we will gather at the wonderful school that in so many ways made us who we are. We will fumble through hellos awkward and artificial and authentic. We will fidget in corners and look around, glimpsing faces both familiar and foreign. We will clutch sweating glasses and bemused spous

• Give Sorrow Words

  “Give sorrow words. The grief that does not speak whispers the o'er-fraught heart, and bids it break.” William Shakespeare As some of you know, Tuesday was Dad's birthday. He would have been sixty-nine. And on that day, I posted a rather somber piece about how much I miss him, particularly

• Missing You

  Don't be fooled. I write these words on Sunday night. At 8:18pm. The girls are tucked in bed. The cats have been fed. The house is impeccably clean. And impossibly quiet. And I am here. In my dark study. Staring at my bright screen. Violating my no-blogging-on-weekends mandate. Normally, this

• Naughty or Nice?

  7:23 am here. A Monday morning. The house smells of pine, and is littered with evidence of a big, wonderful party. The baby dances on Daddy's lap. The big girls are still asleep. No, wait. I hear footsteps on the stairs. They are making their way down. The first thing they will do? They will