I was sitting at my desk on a Monday morning, calmly reviewing my inbox of emails, when I heard a yell and a sharp crack outside.  I raised my eyes to look out the window in time to see a huge pine tree – we’re talking at least 70 feet tall – fall from my neighbor’s property through the air and, landing with a thud, sprawl its green branches across the street. (more…)

More than once I’ve made attempts to follow the tradition of making a new year’s resolution.  “Resolve to exercise.”  “Resolve to lose weight.”  “Resolve to floss teeth.”  Yea, right.  Has anyone actually succeeded with these clichéd goals?  I might as well have spit in the wind.  By Valentine’s day, my New Year’s resolutions were long forgotten. (more…)

When I was a kid growing up in Dallas, we spent Thanksgivings at my granny and grampy’s house.  No one could make a pumpkin chiffon pie (cool whip in the batter) better than granny.  When I was a teenager, we spent Thanksgivings in New York City – going to the Macy’s parade and seeing Broadway shows.    And when I was married to my first husband, we spent Thanksgivings eating his signature meal of turkey, red cabbage, and apple pie. (more…)

He slid down the final three stairs, his four furry legs splayed beneath him.  He landed on the floor with a groan and a humph.  Poor Hickory!  My 12 year old golden retriever has lived a remarkably healthy, veterinarian-free life.  His only sickness now is his advancing age.  The last time he stood at the top of the stairs looking down the long wooden decline, he whimpered, shook and refused to give it a go.  Dan carried his 75 pound body down the stairs in what has since become known as “Hickory’s last stand.” (more…)

I just returned from four days in my hometown of Dallas, Texas.  My husband, Dan, and I sampled delicious tex-mex food, footlong corny dogs at the State Fair (though we passed on the fried butter and fried alligator), and with my family surrounding the television, we watched the Cowboys win in overtime.  It was a wonderful reunion with my southern roots  . . . until we drove to look at my childhood home. (more…)