Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.
Our family shrinks and grows. People die. People get born. People get mad and won't talk to you for a while. Kids grow up and find partners of their own, and pretty soon there are brand-new in-laws. And a grandchild or two.
Genealogically speaking, I’m not that far removed from Scotland. My father’s father was born near Glasgow. But the complex – presumably – set of beliefs and customs he and his parents brought with them to the shores of Lake Michigan in 1873 are lost to me now. Tartans have given way to Levi’s. Haggis has succumbed to pizza and Chinese take-out. When I think about where I come from, I do not think of Scotland. I think of Michigan. Read More.
My brother-in-law Skip loves to throw a party. This time it was a party in honor of — the Leap Second. Join in, kick back and enjoy the extra second in your life, compliments of Skip. Read more.
Jon Newhall and I have been married for 35 years today. Two kids, one house and lots of rewarding jobs later, we seem to be in it for the long haul. Read more.
Our Christmas candy is all gone. Gone. Like a lot of good things in life — mothers, fathers, old friends, colleagues. Read more.
I’ve loaded the dishwasher three times today. Daughter Christina madly baking…Read more.
My daughter is beautiful. But I wonder if she wants to be. If she liked being beautiful, why did she dress up as a heap of trash for Halloween when she was 11? A “Doctor Who” space alien at 28? Read more.
I just found four brand new hundred-dollar bills in my sock drawer. Where in the world did that money come from? Read more.