Laments About Arthritic Adventures

The Subject is Handbags

Size ... and Bags ... Matter

The subject is handbags

It started with an email and two simple questions. I thought I’d get a few short replies. Instead, all week long, my inbox was flooded with replies. Clearly, I had touched a nerve. Read more

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21 Signs You’re Getting Older

21 signs you're getting older

I mostly celebrate my age — 65 —but I admit some aspects of aging aren’t joyful. Here’s my list of 21 signs you’re getting older. Check it out. See what you’d add!

You know you’re getting older when …
…. You go to a rock concert and your friends pass around earplugs instead of drugs.

You know you’re getting older when … Read more

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Toastmasters or Just Plain Toast?

Me? I was Burnt to a Crisp

Toastmasters or Just Plain Toast

First board meeting … of the new season … with the brand new artistic director. Everybody was on their best behavior, wanting to make a good impression. Read more

Whale-Watching Whoops

No Good Deed Goes Unpunished

Whale-watching Whoops

It seemed like such a good idea. “Let’s sign up for a whale-watching boating adventure,” I said gamely to Handsome Hubby, knowing he would be thrilled.

Amazingly San Francisco’s Oceanic Society had openings for Labor Day – just four days later. Who could believe our good fortune? And faster than you can say “Moby Dick,” I made our reservation.

“Ahoy, matey!” I cheered. Read more

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End of Summer End Notes

Taking a Stand on Standing Desks and Other Assorted Topics!

end of summer end notes

Ah, Labor Day – the unofficial end of summer. The kids are back in school and the white shoes are pushed to the back of the closet. For me, it’s time to clean out my in-box of story ideas that didn’t quite come to fruition, but still, seem tantalizing and amusing – too good to simply discard. Take a look and see if you agree. Read more

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Mid-Week Grouchies, Part 2

Summertime and the Living is Whiny!

Middle-aged, mid-week grouches

Dirty grocery carts. People who say “Let’s do lunch,” but don’t. Dropped phone calls. When I wrote a list of pet peeves a couple of months ago, I thought I had it out of my system. I was wrong. Here’s a brand new list of middle-aged, mid-week grouchies! Join me and get your grump on! Read more

Talking Turkey about Quirky Berkeley

My New Home Sweet Home

Talking Turkey about Quirky Berkeley

We moved to Berkeley, CA six years ago and I’m still getting used to it. There is much to love, but also much that is downright bezerkly. It must be a sign of age that world-traveler me is taking so long to get accustomed to this city, but that said in the interest of your enlightenment and amusement, I’m ready to talk turkey about quirky Berkeley! Here goes. Read more

Social Security Madness

Into the Jaws of the Bureaucratic Beast!

Last week I wrote about turning 65 and signing up for Social Security. Now I was want to tell you what happened next. It isn’t pretty. I quickly descended from “social insecurity” into an advanced state of Social Security Madness.

When I signed up for Social Security benefits this Spring, I also selected Medicare Part B. I didn’t need health insurance; Handsome Hubby and I already have good, inexpensive lifetime coverage. But I thought Medicare is inexpensive and a little extra insurance couldn’t hurt. I was wrong. It’s hurting plenty. Read more

My Mission Impossible? Control

Don't Gen. Al Haig and I wish

My Mission Impossible? Control

Each morning I swear I won’t. Yet every morning, I begin a new round of my personal Mission Impossible. My impossible mission? Get control of my house AND my life.

Each morning I swear I won’t. Yet, first thing each day I make the bed and fluff up the “just for show” pillows. I maniacally wipe down the counters, speed-spritz the fridge to eliminate fingerprints and Windex with a fury the glass dining room table.

Each mid-morning, I swear Read more

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My Mother and Mink

Her Pelts. My Punishment.

My Mother and Mink

My mother was pro-mink. She believed fur symbolized luxury, style, wealth and to the manor born. Not me. I was decidedly anti-fur. I grew up in a cloth coat, pea- jacket, egalitarian world.

My mother was a native New Yorker, so fur was practical too, good for keeping the cold out. I, on the other hand, grew up in sunny Las Vegas. So I avoided the cold and the culture of fur for a long time.

The Fur Flies

But in my late 20s, I was D.C.-bound for an exciting new job. I was also in possession of a small insurance settlement from a leg injury. For my mother, the stars were aligned. She saw fur in my future and pounced. Read more

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