My son Is in the hospital with appendicitis 2,000 miles away. He’s 28 years old and living on his own. How do I mother him from here?
A Case of the Human Condition
I’m Barbara Falconer Newhall and I’ve got an incurable Case of the Human Condition. And since you do too, I’m counting on you to laugh and cry along with me as I riff on life as we know it . . . Below you'll read about my creaky, old fifties house, my forays into home gardening, my shopping stories, my spectacularly low-fashion wardrobe -- and more.
Happily Retired? Take the Quiz
Retired, I’ve decided, is an attitude. It’s a state of mind, a state of equanimity. You can have that attitude whether you’re still working or you’ve clocked your last forty-hour work-week. Read more.
Am I an Artist? Or Am I a Brand?
What kind of writer am I anyway? When I sit down to the keyboard, is it to write something beautiful — or something that will sell? Am I an artist? Or am I a brand? Read more.
The Darkening Days — And My Mother’s Last Hours
In the years since my mother’s death, I’ve often felt regret that my mother’s last hours with me weren’t more meaningful for her, and for me. Read more.
I’m Not Going to Rant About the Election Results. Here’s Why
I’m not going to rant about the election results. The world doesn’t need another angry argument. I’m going to write about my garden. Or try to. Read more.
Widowed: Some Thoughts Before Election Day — From Jon
Thoughts before election day: My husband’s 2010 opinion piece on the Pledge of Allegiance assumed a social trust that’s since gone missing in America. Read more.
I’m Playing Hooky From My Blog Today
I’m playing hooky from my blog today. So this is not a blog post. This is me complaining — again — about my consarned to-do list. Read more.