Recently I received an email that really frustrated me. In fact, I felt angry, confused and agitated; the email caused me to question the level of trust I had in a particular situation.
Last Wednesday was Kalisha's birthday. She loves celebrating her birthday. Chronologically she may be 29, but when it comes to birthdays, she is still 10 or 12.
I have a friend whose father sends her roses every year on Valentine's Day. One year the roses were delivered by a barbershop quartet. I always thought that was the sweetest idea.
Ya know, it just figures.
My husband's stepdad, Red, had a pretty serious car accident a few weeks ago and so my mother-in-law has had lots on her plate since that day.
Before I can re-create our conversation this morning, I need to give a little background. Kalisha usually gets up early, eats a bowl of cereal, then goes back to bed.
I took a good long look in the mirror the other day and thought, I ain't gettin' any younger. Those white hairs and crow's feet are tell-tale signs that the bloom of youth has withered.
I write my blog with a few basic assumptions. First, people are generally good at heart. Second, people generally mean well.
Saturday evening, we had guests for dinner. After dinner, the six of us played UNO.
I do love a January calendar, all those lovely blank, fresh squares. It’s like a clean slate, lots of white space and much potential.