Romance…with wine
True confession: I am a hunting widow. Okay, that isn’t the actual confession. I don’t hate it. There, I said it. When I first became a hunting widow, though, I did hate it. I loathed it. I had huge resentment for that week in mid-November, when my husband would pack up his pickup truck, peck... Continue Reading →
I changed the sheets today. Not a particularly exciting task, except that as I dug around in the linen cupboard I realized both sets of flannel sheets that fit my bed were in the wash, and the temperature isn’t due to shift above 10 degrees Fahrenheit until some time next year. And yeah, I realize... Continue Reading →
Another Easter mass under my belt. Another round of tears, another giant wad of used tissues stuffed into my purse (I should probably clean those out). Another what? Fifty or so more to go, if I’m lucky? Oh the irony in that statement. Now I’m home, changed from the pretty dress into my fave comfy... Continue Reading →
When I miss him most… When I can’t figure out something on my phone. Or my laptop. Or any computer or other electronic device. When I see a group of teenage boys walking down the street, especially when they are laughing and appear happy with life. When I see a good-looking blond man. Would he... Continue Reading →