Enjoy my “Life” stories & videos!

Post on: August 23rd, 2010

Cleaning house.

I LOVE this card.

The fact that I have it taped to one of the glass panes of my kitchen door goes a long way in explaining why my house was not chosen for the celebrated “Cape Elizabeth Kitchen Tour” which will be taking place in a few short weeks.

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Post on: August 10th, 2010

Baby, I was born (not) to run.



"Yo, Adrienne!"



(This weeks  ”NO SUGAR ADDED” Column, in The Forecaster Newspapers)


I hate running.

My adversarial relationship with the sport began as a freshman in college. After a few too many Fritos, a friend suggested we form a running group. Before I knew what I was being sucked into – wham! – my alarm clock was rudely awakening me at 4:30 a.m. on a chilly autumn morning and I was propelling myself toward the iconic steps of the Philadelphia Museum of Art, just like Sylvester Stallone in “Rocky.”

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Post on: May 28th, 2010

AARP(eeps).

Earlier this week, I received a piece of mail that once again left me wondering about the state of our so called technologically advanced civilization.  I walked into my kitchen and casually leafed through the unwanted pile of envelopes and useless flyers from a variety of stores I never shop in.  And there I saw it….lurking beneath a circular.  Four  sinister letters, emblazoned upon the corner of  an otherwise un-noteworthy white business envelope:  AARP.  The American Association of Retired Persons. Or People. Or Peeps.  For those of you actually of retirement age, peeps is slang for “people”…I’m not making reference to those yellow marshmallow chicks served up at Easter.  Although I think an assisted living development filled with marshmallow chicks playing Mahjong would be something to really look forward to in my later years.

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Post on: April 11th, 2010

WANTED: Soul mate…with throw-up bowl.

There are two sounds that can simultaneously awaken me from a deep sleep…and strike fear into my heart.  The first is the sound of a gargantuan pine tree falling onto my house (see my “Oh Tannenbaum” blog post from the end of February).  The second is the sound of a child. Vomiting. IN MY BED.

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Post on: March 8th, 2010

The sausage incident…revisited.

Ok, so I wrote this story in the early summer of 2008.  And I just had a repeat of the same incident. Except all three of my children were in attendance. I was still annoyed…but I didn’t end up throwing myself onto my bed and weeping. So I guess I’m making progress in the grieving/healing department.  Phew!

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Post on: February 26th, 2010

Oh Tannenbaum.

Dearest, most patient and forgiving reader: It feels like an eternity since I’ve penned my last blog post.  Last night, however, brought an event so traumatic…so life-altering….so memorable… that I could barely keep my fingertips off of my keyboard when I finally got the chance to reflect upon it this evening.

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Post on: January 1st, 2010

Younger Men Pay Less for Life Insurance.

Just say NO!

Practical thoughts on dating after widowhood.

Post on: December 26th, 2009

God Save the Queen.

God Save the Queen!

Happy December 26th. It’s Saturday. The day after Christmas.  Boxing Day, if you are a Britophile. Although, sadly, I recently learned that Boxing Day is apparently moved to Monday if the 26th falls on a weekend.  A pity…but we shall still pretend it’s today, for the sake of  this posting.

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Post on: December 12th, 2009

What is Sacred?

Read me.

Since my husband Drew’s untimely death…

(which was very inconvenient and against my direct orders, I might add) I have spent an inordinate number of hours pondering what, indeed, is truly sacred. Perhaps it was because he died at Christmas.  I mean, it is difficult to reconcile the death of your soul mate with the simultaneous celebration of the birth of a man whose press release says he is the Son of God.  Then you throw Santa Claus and mistletoe into the mix…and you can start to imagine why a woman would need to do some serious pondering in regard to life, love, death and religion. And what is deemed hallowed…and inviolate.

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Post on: June 6th, 2009

Dealing with the POOP.

In grief, as in dog walking, one must ask:  ”Is putting the poop in a plastic bag & tossing it really the wisest way to deal with it?”


During the April school break, I took my three children on one of our spontaneous, ill-planned, overnight “adventures.” This time, we headed up the coast. Along the way, we enjoyed some snooping around in antique shops, consumed the requisite fried seafood and ice cream treats…and then we did what every American family does to end the day on a happy vacation note.  We zipped into a weathered, old cemetery for a quick bit of fun.

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