Barbara’s Riffs on Life

Sixteen Years Left to Live. How Many Bowls of Froot Loops Is That?

In the sixteen years I’ve got left, how many of the gotta-do items on my to-do list will I get done? Read more.

My mother was a tradwife, a bona fide 1950s tradwife. That’s what she wanted. That’s what she got. Read more.

The trouble with poinsettias is — they don’t know that Christmas is over and it’s time to make an exit. Read more.

I said hello to Jon and his family, and then there was nothing more to do in this graveyard. Read more.

Facelifts that leave your cheeks looking like you’re facing into 100-mph headwinds are not for me. Or are they? Read more.

Two big changes for my — 2009! — website: a major redesign and a more spacious writing schedule for me. Read more.