The odd, nomadic lifestyle that I live (and love) is not especially conducive to making intimate, long-term connections. Something that I miss, and am sorely out of practice in pursuing.
But I wasn’t sure that a women’s retreat was right for me.
The lessons that I learned were completely unexpected… CONTINUE READING >>
The odd, nomadic lifestyle that I live (and love) is not especially conducive to making intimate, long-term connections. Something that I miss, and am sorely out of practice in pursuing.
But I wasn’t sure that a women’s retreat was right for me.
The lessons that I learned were completely unexpected… CONTINUE READING >>
Don’t get me wrong – I love being with David.
We’re pretty much together 24/7 and it’s seldom a problem with us.
We work hard on keeping our relationship fresh (to varying degrees, of course!) and continue to try new things together.
But sometimes a girl… CONTINUE READING >>
Don’t get me wrong – I love being with David.
We’re pretty much together 24/7 and it’s seldom a problem with us.
We work hard on keeping our relationship fresh (to varying degrees, of course!) and continue to try new things together.
But sometimes a girl… CONTINUE READING >>
Yup, it’s time for another women “of a certain age” post from me. So far I’ve overshared about stray hairs, arm flaps, botox, and mammograms – so why stop now, right?
This time it’s about my feet and cankles – yuck, I know, but it’s life and if I don’t overshare, who’s going to?
So here goes – some frank talk (but no gross pictures, promise), a little bit of whining and a solution or two… CONTINUE READING >>
Yup, it’s time for another women “of a certain age” post from me. So far I’ve overshared about stray hairs, arm flaps, botox, and mammograms – so why stop now, right?
This time it’s about my feet and cankles – yuck, I know, but it’s life and if I don’t overshare, who’s going to?
So here goes – some frank talk (but no gross pictures, promise), a little bit of whining and a solution or two… CONTINUE READING >>
How I shared my first inappropriate adult-to-adult laugh with my daughter. Not exactly a Hallmark moment – but I’ll take it.
There’s passion on Manhattan. I felt it as soon as I arrived on the island. For me, a major part of this enthusiasm radiates from my fast-walking, subway-chasing, black-wearing, taxi-flagging urbanite daughters, The Piglet and Decibel.
The New York I know is viewed through their eyes and it is a very youthful place. I have to say I’m a bit flattered that my girls felt they could drag this old T-Rex around everywhere they went. But, apparently, this dinosaur… CONTINUE READING >>
How I shared my first inappropriate adult-to-adult laugh with my daughter. Not exactly a Hallmark moment – but I’ll take it.
There’s passion on Manhattan. I felt it as soon as I arrived on the island. For me, a major part of this enthusiasm radiates from my fast-walking, subway-chasing, black-wearing, taxi-flagging urbanite daughters, The Piglet and Decibel.
The New York I know is viewed through their eyes and it is a very youthful place. I have to say I’m a bit flattered that my girls felt they could drag this old T-Rex around everywhere they went. But, apparently, this dinosaur… CONTINUE READING >>
It’s an American coming-of-a-certain-age rite of passage. You turn fifty and you join AARP, right?
For me, it was easy – I’m married to a man five years older than me. The blow of my aging milestones are always softened because David paves the way for me – he shoots through them kicking and screaming so I can glide into them gracefully knowing that it’s not the end of the world (until I look in the mirror and realize that I don’t quite match up to the image I have of myself in my mind!).
Riding on David’s coattails, I’ve been… CONTINUE READING > >
It’s an American coming-of-a-certain-age rite of passage. You turn fifty and you join AARP, right?
For me, it was easy – I’m married to a man five years older than me. The blow of my aging milestones are always softened because David paves the way for me – he shoots through them kicking and screaming so I can glide into them gracefully knowing that it’s not the end of the world (until I look in the mirror and realize that I don’t quite match up to the image I have of myself in my mind!).
Riding on David’s coattails, I’ve been… CONTINUE READING > >
Exciting news! I am honored to have been chosen to be a debut video partner of WHOA! Network, an exciting new online video network dedicated to bringing out the best in women “of a certain age.”
Here’s the scoop (and you can say you heard it here first!):
WHOA! Network has a simple concept at its core: Women should be seen and heard at every age and valued more as we get older, not less.
Makes sense, right?
Yet that’s not the case. In our… CONTINUE READING >>
Exciting news! I am honored to have been chosen to be a debut video partner of WHOA! Network, an exciting new online video network dedicated to bringing out the best in women “of a certain age.”
Here’s the scoop (and you can say you heard it here first!):
WHOA! Network has a simple concept at its core: Women should be seen and heard at every age and valued more as we get older, not less.
Makes sense, right?
Yet that’s not the case. In our… CONTINUE READING >>
Ten people. TEN.
This is how many people I dealt with while getting my annual mammogram. How did something so personal turn into an assembly line? As if getting my boobs pancaked and my skin yanked so tight that I felt it all the way up to my ears isn’t bad enough. I get to be treated like a cow in a roundup.
Before I go off on a complete diatribe, I want to be fair. I’m ALWAYS a wreck at mammogram time. My mother died of breast cancer. The final ten years of her life were hell as the cancer spread to her lymph nodes, her spine and her brain. I learned to administer shots. I watched as her brain fluid was removed from a shunt in her… CONTINUE READING >>
Ten people. TEN.
This is how many people I dealt with while getting my annual mammogram. How did something so personal turn into an assembly line? As if getting my boobs pancaked and my skin yanked so tight that I felt it all the way up to my ears isn’t bad enough. I get to be treated like a cow in a roundup.
Before I go off on a complete diatribe, I want to be fair. I’m ALWAYS a wreck at mammogram time. My mother died of breast cancer. The final ten years of her life were hell as the cancer spread to her lymph nodes, her spine and her brain. I learned to administer shots. I watched as her brain fluid was removed from a shunt in her… CONTINUE READING >>