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May 2017
Musings of an Undefeated Matriarch

Make Mine a Double

Most of us leave childish habits behind except when it comes to ice cream cones. Our tongue will curl around a cone as happily as ivy intertwines a trellis. Whether waffle or wafer, a cone piled high with vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry ice cream is one of life’s guilty pleasures.


Why I'm Not Much Help Around the House

I wish my dad had known I was an ENFP. Then he would have understood my lack of interest in "maintenance-type tasks" such as mowing the yard, building pig pens and putting on tire chains in August. That's right; tire chains in August. 

Ernie's World

Rocks, Camels and RVs, Oh My!

Instead, we looked on the map at the next "logical" place west of Phoenix. A hundred and twenty-five miles later, we were in rock-hound heaven. And "RV heaven," if you can use those two words together. Apparently a million snowbirds travel to Quartzsite for the months of January and February in RVs that range from brand new to "are you kidding me?"

Agelessly Yours

From Child Proofing to Senior Proofing Your Home

There, all stuck in an old, plump pin cushion were several sewing needles, no big deal except....except they were all threaded. "You get all nervous, jerky and go ballistic when trying to thread a needle," he wrote. "Don't want to see my gal suffering a stroke."

April 2017
Add One More Day...

Times, They Are a Changin’…

Evidently, no more care from bona fide doctors. Nowadays, if you're going to admit defeat and accept illness, you're going to have to be pharmaceutically licensed and possibly flight attendant certified for good measure, to deal with your everyday health disorders.


Privacy Is a Thing of the Past

He knows he’s being spied on because pop-up advertisements start appearing all over his computer screen. One example is when Freddy whimsically viewed a swimsuit slide show; ads for intimacy paraphernalia kept popping up for over a week.

Agelessly Yours

For Whom He Sings, Only God Knows

I angrily turned toward my disgusted – and moneywise, much poorer husband.  “If Pavarotti offered to privately sing for me at our home — even in the shower –  I’d stuff a fistful of biscotti down his throat!” I cried.



When I was certain I had all the moves right, it looked like the other 65 people were doing it all wrong. And in unison. The five men in the class were eager for the session to end and to get on with their day. I knew his because they were all dancing in their golf shoes.

March 2017
Add One More Day...

Curmudgeon … Grouch … Party Pooper ... What …. ever!

Anyway, after standing in line with what seems like ten thousand other shoppers, chatting about the pros and cons of air fresheners with Doris the cashier, I'm finally awarded custody of my items and collecting said items back into my cart, only to be confronted at the exit by another staff member who performs what I can only assume is magic when they count all 137 items in my bags and boxes, compare the bundle to the receipt they demanded, and all in less time than it took Doris to comment on my toilet paper and then bid me a good day. 

Sam's Side

The Sum of Our Parts

But the truth is, my brain is lazy. I can remember stuff that I think is fun, but ask me to remember to get bread and mayo, and I might just come home with toilet paper and cheese (hey…we’ll use them eventually). That’s the kind of irritating memory lapses that I possess.

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