The Irreverent Widow » Category: Life

A summer love letter to Maine.

Sandi — Fri, 22 Jul 2011 17:13:17 +0000

It’s been 6 years since I moved here, and I’m ready to confess what I know you’ve been hoping to read: I think I’m in love.

With the coast of Maine.

Valentine’s Day is not for sissies.

Sandi — Fri, 11 Feb 2011 16:26:51 +0000

Day of love? Or satanic plot?

These are the days that try men’s souls. And women’s.

I speak not of our nation’s economic woes, nor of the mountains of snow threatening to collapse our roofs. No, ladies and gentlemen, I speak of the days leading up to Valentine’s Day.

Putting the sexy back in taxes.

Sandi — Thu, 03 Feb 2011 00:55:23 +0000

Recently, I reluctantly purchased something with accordion pleats, reinforced gussets, and elastic closures. No it was not, as one friend suggested, a corset. I bought folders. Legal sized folders. If you are over the age of 21 and own anything beyond a toothbrush, tickets to a Lady Gaga concert and perhaps a winter jacket, you know precisely the folders of which I speak.

Zero degrees of separation.

Sandi — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 17:14:53 +0000

The great (and disturbingly incestuous) state of Maine.

Most of us are familiar with the concept known as “six degrees of separation.” It’s the idea that all humans are within six steps of connectivity. That whole friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend thing.

Adieu!

Sandi — Mon, 18 Oct 2010 21:31:54 +0000

Happy World Menopause Day, Ladies!

Just when you thought there were no more holidays for Hallmark to cash in on…here you have it. A day for the world to celebrate the cessation of our menstrual cycles.

Cleaning house.

Sandi — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 03:10:47 +0000

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.

Baby, I was born (not) to run.

Sandi — Tue, 10 Aug 2010 16:24:27 +0000

"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.”

AARP(eeps).

Sandi — Fri, 28 May 2010 15:43:26 +0000

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.

WANTED: Soul mate…with throw-up bowl.

Sandi — Sun, 11 Apr 2010 13:16:01 +0000

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.

The sausage incident…revisited.

Sandi — Mon, 08 Mar 2010 14:22:52 +0000

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!

Oh Tannenbaum.

Sandi — Sat, 27 Feb 2010 02:47:41 +0000

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.

God Save the Queen.

Sandi — Sun, 27 Dec 2009 03:40:17 +0000

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.

What is Sacred?

Sandi — Sat, 12 Dec 2009 22:49:28 +0000

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.

Dealing with the POOP.

Sandi — Sat, 06 Jun 2009 14:05:57 +0000

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.

Wash, Rinse, Repeat.

Sandi — Fri, 15 May 2009 11:27:45 +0000

DEAREST (and most patient) READER:

It has been a busy month for me. The world of widowhood, dating and single parenting has, as usual, caused me to lose track of time. A month since my last posting? Goodness! But all has not been for naught…as I have come back rejuvenated and filled to the brim with deep thoughts and brilliantly helpful tips!

My Great Ass.

admin — Thu, 12 Mar 2009 17:14:50 +0000

I never thought of myself as having a great behind. I mean, I always knew I had a nice body…but, as a woman who recalls having once layered 8 pair of cotton underwear under her jeans (at age 13) before going to dinner at some friend of the family’s house because they had a cute son her age and she wanted her derriere to appear, more, well…prevalent…let’s just say that I never thought of my ass as my greatest asset.

WHAT??!

Sandi — Tue, 03 Mar 2009 06:25:15 +0000

Happy second day of March, 2009. It is snow day #4. I know this, because I opened my laptop early this morning to find cheerful emails from all manner of school administrators making me aware of this fact. It is Monday. I just spent 2.5 days with my beloved children… and now we are given even more time to bond. This wouldn’t be so terrible, but for the fact that this *surprise!* three day weekend comes a mere 7 days after a February school vacation that turned into an extended funfest due to an additional day of lifelong learning lost to snow. Nine days of vacation…only to be capped off by a snow day last Monday.

The 6 Years of Christmas.

Sandi — Wed, 17 Dec 2008 21:25:00 +0000

All chipper and bright. Maids-a-milking and chicks dancing and drummer dudes drumming. Sounds like a real party! And that poor partridge, stuck up there in that pear tree, afraid to come down lest he be attacked by the three horny French Hens. Or are they French horns? No matter. And then there are the five golden rings. Ahhh, yes. The rings. Which make me think of wedding rings. And weddings. And marriage. And MY marriage. And my husband. And the fact that he is now my DEAD husband. And the tragedy that was his death by pancreatic cancer, on the magically beautiful snowy morning after Christmas. Circa 2002. Sad is a word that does that Christmas no justice. Yes. How I have always loved Christmas.

Read more on The 6 Years of Christmas….

Death by Twitter.

Sandi — Thu, 13 Nov 2008 16:05:05 +0000

I see a trend in progress. I see disaster on the horizon. I see the Twitter Train of Trouble barreling toward a cute little imported sports car…that has gotten its sensitive, run-flat tires hitched on the tracks.