A Woman of a Certain Age

But when he’s gone Me and them lonesome blues collide The bed’s too big The frying pan’s too wide.                           -   Joni Mitche...

   Father's Day has arrived close upon the heels of my husband's death, and I am thinking about what a loving father he was to his t...

It is one week since my husband of twenty years died.  I am not in my right mind.  When I stumbled into the funeral place a few days ago to ...

I went to the grocery store today, and while in line to check out, I glanced at the items displayed along each side of the narrow area throu...

  A few days ago, while gazing with pleasure at our weeping cherry tree, I found myself quietly reciting this poem by A.E. Housman:   Loveli...

Bless me, Mr. Zuckerberg, for I have quit.  It has been three weeks since I last looked at FB.   For my penance, I shall read three books an...

We breathe.  In and out.  Most of the time we do this unconsciously.  I, for one, don't often stop to think about what a miracle this is...