I was thinking about the good old days and how much has changed. It’s astonishing, isn’t it? We used to use landline phones. Now we have cell phones. Super convenient. Carry them in our pockets and our pocketbooks. Carry them everywhere. But we never call. Just text. So, are we really more connected with our
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2026/11/169375_1.jpg-copy.jpg450450Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2026-11-04 10:15:412026-11-04 10:53:40Maybe the Good Old Days Were Better
While autumn’s chill is in the air, I’m still replaying the songs from my not-so-great summer. It was a tough season, with canceled vacation plans and a lot of stress.
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2026/10/stack-of-old-45-rpm-records.jpg300400Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2026-10-21 08:01:592026-11-04 10:03:46Stuck on the Songs of Summer
I’m proud to share some great professional news. My Matzo Chronicles column has just been recognized — for the second time — with a writing award from the National Federation of Press Women (NFPW). The NFPW gave its nod of approval to my story, “Medical Ageism: You Don’t Have to Live with It,” which detailed
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2026/10/NFPW-Ntl-award-logo26.jpg342450Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2026-09-30 01:05:112026-09-30 13:02:49A Second National Award
Life in Reno has been a series of personal plagues. Although not quite of Biblical proportions, for whining, wimpy, mere mortal me, they’ve been epic, loathsome, and alarmingly nonstop.
Saturday morning in bed. Handsome Hubby turned to me with that warm, brown-eyed, loving look that usually signals one of two things—he wants to get frisky, or he’s hot for hotcakes and bacon. But not this weekend. The man, a constant source of surprises, said, “Baby, it’s happening in Fallon. Cantaloupe! Big time. Cantaloupe. Let’s
I’m suffering through an identity crisis, no longer young, not quite old. It’s tough. Now, however, it appears my spam folder is confused too, littered with scams across a checkered demographic wasteland. I get sexy stuff. I get old age stuff. Who am I? And if I am my spam, I’m more befuddled than ever!
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2026/08/no-junk-mail-sign-copy.jpeg253450Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2026-08-19 07:01:222026-08-19 11:03:24Am I My Spam? My Spam I Am?
Maybe the Good Old Days Were Better
A Pain in the Email and Foot!
I was thinking about the good old days and how much has changed. It’s astonishing, isn’t it? We used to use landline phones. Now we have cell phones. Super convenient. Carry them in our pockets and our pocketbooks. Carry them everywhere. But we never call. Just text. So, are we really more connected with our
Stuck on the Songs of Summer
Not One for the Record Books
While autumn’s chill is in the air, I’m still replaying the songs from my not-so-great summer. It was a tough season, with canceled vacation plans and a lot of stress.
A Second National Award
Medical Ageism Story Gets National Notice
I’m proud to share some great professional news. My Matzo Chronicles column has just been recognized — for the second time — with a writing award from the National Federation of Press Women (NFPW). The NFPW gave its nod of approval to my story, “Medical Ageism: You Don’t Have to Live with It,” which detailed
A Pattern of Personal, Perplexing Plagues
I'm Puzzled and Panicked!
Life in Reno has been a series of personal plagues. Although not quite of Biblical proportions, for whining, wimpy, mere mortal me, they’ve been epic, loathsome, and alarmingly nonstop.
Cantaloupe? Honey Dew
Adventures with Handsome Hubby
Saturday morning in bed. Handsome Hubby turned to me with that warm, brown-eyed, loving look that usually signals one of two things—he wants to get frisky, or he’s hot for hotcakes and bacon. But not this weekend. The man, a constant source of surprises, said, “Baby, it’s happening in Fallon. Cantaloupe! Big time. Cantaloupe. Let’s
Am I My Spam? My Spam I Am?
A Middle-Aged Muddle
I’m suffering through an identity crisis, no longer young, not quite old. It’s tough. Now, however, it appears my spam folder is confused too, littered with scams across a checkered demographic wasteland. I get sexy stuff. I get old age stuff. Who am I? And if I am my spam, I’m more befuddled than ever!