The Misfit Christian — Click on the image to see the book at Amazon.com
Live Happily on Less — click image to see at Amazon.com
Grammar Despair — click image to see at Amazon.com
- Too Many Items on Your List? Do This . . .
- Vacation Every Day?
- Judging Others — We’re Usually Wrong
- How to Complain, without Hurting Others
- That Incredible Thing You Do (and Make)
- When Will You Be Honored for What You Do?
- Do We Like What We See in the Mirror?
- Quiet People Have a Lot to Say
- Is It Impossible? Maybe Not.
- The Power We All Possess
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Tag Archives: personal
It’s amazing what you can learn by sitting on the porch all afternoon, watching the cats. Like this: cats sleep a lot. What is it — 18, 19 hours a day? I can understand why lions get exhausted, what with … Continue reading
The first day we got her, I left the kids with the Norwegian Artist, dutifully snapped on the leash, and went for the inaugural walk to the park, where somehow, when I blinked for a fraction too long, our newest family member clamped her mouth shut around a dead duck. Continue reading
For some reason, I lack the genetic DNA to sit in a circle and listen to one or two members of a group drone on and on about how they feel about what we have all just endured. Continue reading
I confess: I engage in reckless behavior. Sometimes I salt my food before I taste it. I set the cruise control for two miles over the speed limit. If the headache’s bad enough, I’ll take two aspirin instead of one. … Continue reading
I just bought a bottle of beer so that I can make more shampoo. Yeah, that’s right. I pour beer on my head, mixed with a liquid soap that has pronounceable and recognizable words in the ingredient list (Olive Oil, … Continue reading
Ah, but Norwegian Artists are a determined race, and the offending item was banished to the far Netherlands of my nightstand, and that only with my avowed promise to use my body as a shield against the Aurora Borealis in numerical form. Continue reading
Accessorizing the seared gourd is a deep, warm cream dubbed cheerful cheesecake, which makes me wonder what a depressed cheesecake looks like.
One of the phones buzzes; another one shrieks; the third one retches. When they all go off at once it sounds as if the dog is getting sick. Continue reading
Given that the Norwegian Artist, however, is one of the sanest people I know, his digital reading habits in conjunction with the wielding of his brushes apparently don’t mess with his brain as much as living in constant contact with me.
The Norwegian Artist, however, believes that the Enemy Cold Virus needs to be attacked head on: sweated out, molested, assaulted, crushed, mashed, mangled, forced into unrelenting hard labor, deprived of oxygen, marched to the edge of the precipice and hurtled over the side. Continue reading