. . . my life is ripe and full and luscious . . . Like aging, this opportunity to mature and learn is a gift . . .
Yesterday was Madeleine L'Engle's birthday. Her work was formative for me as a young girl, first as a reader (her most famous main character's name is Meg, after all), and then as a writer. My first short story when I was young was about time travel. Her characters and storylines gave me hope. She wrote... Continue Reading →
When I turned 40, I started picking up on the things people in my age-group were saying about the aging process. There was one post, I forget the exact wording, about if you find yourself on the floor, you start looking for all the other things to do while you're down there; clean up furballs,... Continue Reading →
Some girls spend their time dreaming of a big wedding, planning for motherhood, wishing for Prince Charming to sweep into their lives. Other than looking for a prince, or really any boy, to sweep into my life, I didn't dream that way. Professionally, I wanted to be a baseball player or a priest. But I... Continue Reading →