Mortification by Mama

I. Am. Embarrassing. Or so I’m told by my oldest. Embarrassing with a capital E. Maybe with a few exclamation points thrown in. In fact, I do not even have to work at this quality. It comes effortlessly to me. My very breathing is embarrassing. And, being a bit of a contrarian, I find that…

Finders keepers

We just couldn’t move. There we were, lying on my sofa and on the floor, spread eagle, aching from limb to limb. Had we just completed a long run? Nope. Pushed a car uphill through a snowstorm? Guess again. We had just cleaned my basement. Before you jump to conclusions, I’m no hoarder. My basement…

Worth the crystal

There’s a little voice that whispers in my ear now and then. I like to think it’s my deceased parents, banding together to clue me in on things they wish they would have known when they were alive. If you’re still reading and haven’t labeled me a paranoid schizophrenic for hearing voices in my head,…