In third grade, my teacher, Mrs. Hibbish, assigned the class to write a brief essay answering the following question: If you could be any animal, what animal would you be? This was my response...
I tend to look for meaning in things. I look for recurring patterns on fake marble flooring and printed fabric, I find a rhythm quickly, and I am often struck by how one person may smell like some unique combination of things. My husband smells...
The year was 1998, I was 24 Years old, and I was in my second year of teaching at a Preparatory School in Florida. A grand tradition at the Middle School I taught at was that each grade take a trip to bringing harmony and unity to...
My life is one of many stories there is the one about my mom killing a two year old baby of the wealthy couple she was a nanny for and whatever unfortunate reason she made the unholy decision to lay the blame of that despicable crime on me,...
So, the story was told to me by my friend about her husband. It is the kind of true story you can't make up. I have attached an audio file of her short version of this peculiar tale on a snowy Seattle evening.
Bubba got sour the movement at the Masters and he said "I just got into the trees, adage a crazy crack in my managing director, and instantly I'm wearing the Na‹ve Jacket". As a result of goodness for his power to visualize.
I had been resistant to getting a new dog. We couldn’t afford one; we couldn’t afford the time to train a pup, the sleep deprivation, the continual puppy proofing the areas he would reside in, the contingent poop and pee cleanup. We...
