Pink dresses. Powder blue dresses. Dresses with nosegays, kitty cats and sunbursts. Are little girls the last hold-outs for pretty these days? Read more.
ON THE FUNNY SIDE
Need some levity? Read on!
When a Grown Daughter Doesn’t Call — Or, How to Overmother a Twenty-Something
Christina hadn’t called. We had dropped her at the airport hours ago. The flight to Burbank takes only seventy minutes. She should be home by now. But Jon and I still hadn’t gotten the, “I’m home. The plane didn’t crash. My roommate remembered to pick me up, and we didn’t get mugged in the garage,” phone call. Read more.
A Child Is Born — And So Is a Grandpa
My friend Jake is a man in his prime. He does triathlons, reads good books, knows all the best hiking trails and drinks nice wines. Jake has never been anybody’s rickety old grandpa — until recently, when Jake’s daughter gave birth to a baby girl. Read more.
The Writing Room: Different From, Different Than – Which Is It?
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Some of my favorite books on the craft of writing. Photo by Barbara Falconer Newhall[/caption]
Some of my favorite books on the craft of writing. Photo by Barbara Falconer Newhall[/caption]
I was at the gym working on my pecs and abdominals the other day when I spotted a flyer announcing, “Belly fat is different than other fat.” Shouldn’t that be different from? What’s correct? I hadn’t a clue. Read more.
A (Pillow) Case of the Human Condition: Time to Crack Open That Hope Chest and Live a Little
I waited too long to get married. By the time Jon and I said our vows, the contents of my hope chest had become outdated, old-fashioned, fussy — unusable. As a result, after thirty some years of marriage, I continue to be the owner of a dozen or so beautiful, hand-embroidered, virginal pillowcases. Read more.
A (Contagious) Case of the Human Condition: How a Mother of Preschool Kids Outsmarts the Mighty Microbe
I believe in microbes. Microbes are like God. You can’t hear them, taste them, smell them or see them with the naked eye. But you know they’re there. Lately, I’ve had more experiences with microbes than with God. I’ve been sick a lot. Read more.
Feng Shui Tip for the Writing Room and the Bedroom — Your Mother’s Not Allowed, and Neither Are the Kids
There are no photos in my my writing room. No kids, no parents, no family. Pictures of my parents have the worst effect on me when I’m trying to write. “When are you going to get a real job, Barb?” they shout from their frames as I enter the workroom. Peering over my shoulder, they pass judgment on me and my thoughts, “You’re writing about that? Shame on you.”