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 →
Growing up in suburban Chicago, I didn't listen to country music. It was either my father's symphonic music on WFMT, or my mother's bobby-soxer/50s crooners, or local pop radio on the radio in my room. Occasionally, we'd click past HeeHaw on TV, but we never stayed to watch. I learned early that that wasn't *our*... Continue Reading →
When Barack (HUSSEIN!) Obama was running for president, a number of naysayers complained that he was part of the Chicago Machine, the enormous gears of power churning within the City of Big Shoulders. I always marveled at that assessment, because from what I could see, Mr. Obama was an outsider to Chicago politics, an unconnected... Continue Reading →
I've had an exceptional summer. Probably the best since becoming an adult. I've gotten to see my daughter graduate, have all my kids together for a celebration, and now my daughter is staying with us while she job hunts. It's been a great garden year, with plentiful roses and calla lilies, a surprising raspberry crop,... Continue Reading →
Your ignorance coupled with your hatred has created a monster that shits and pukes on everything in its path, and the rest of the world -- the world that has chosen to learn and grow and listen to people who don't look like us -- are sick of cleaning up your mess.
Meg Currell 