Laments About Muddled With Family

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

,

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

,

50 Shades of Green

Leather Fetish? Nope. Lettuce Fetish!

50 Shades of Green

Remember when salad was simple? Throw together some iceberg lettuce and a few tomatoes and you were done. Now when you shop the produce aisle, you wade through 50 shades of green. Dine out and you wonder if you’re reading a foreign-language menu, so unknown are the leafy options.

These days you need a Ph.D. to make and eat salad! To help sort through the confusion, join me for a walk on the wild produce side. Ready, set, lettuce go! Read more

,

I am an Amazon Warrior

Wonder Woman has Nothing on Me

I am an Amazon warrior

I am an Amazon warrior. Not like Wonder Woman, all tricked out in hot pants, a bustier, and bullet-repelling bracelets, but still … Read more

,

My Not-So-Merry Market-Go-Round

Modern-Day Mercantile Madness

my not-so-merry market-go-round

Growing up, life was simple. My mother shopped at one supermarket, two at the most. Now I’m on a non-stop, not-so-merry market-go-round, shopping at six different stores. It’s modern-day mercantile madness.

If it’s Tuesday, I go to Whole Foods for oh, so pricy organic produce and meat. Wednesdays, I’m at Safeway. That’s where I get the family prescriptions and non-organic, unhealthful food, like Lay’s potato chips and Diet Coke. By Friday, it’s anybody’s guess. It’s a regular basket free-for-all!  Read more

,

Love and Listening

Sorry. You Were Talking. I Wasn't Listening

annoyed wife talking and bored husband not listening

Longtime married couples think they’ve heard it all. But after decades, love and listening may go their separate ways. In which case, even the happiest of marrieds may discover they’ve missed something important. I know. It just happened to Handsome Hubby and me. Crisis loomed! Read more

,

Favorite Family Recipes

Flavors and Memories

Favorite family recipes – more precious than silver, packed with more memories than scrapbooks and the hallway filled with yellowed photos of our ancestors. Every family has got a favored meal. Here’s the story of our’s. Read more

,

Play the Field or Play for Keeps?

Hoops or Hubby?

Play the field or play for keeps

With the National Basketball Association season winding down and free agent trading time gearing up, I’m considering my options. Should I play the field or play for keeps? Stick with Handsome Hubby or …? Read more

, ,

First a Concussion. Then a Cook

Ina Garten and Grandma Ida Helped Too

First a concussion. Then a cook

First I got a concussion. Then I learned to cook. It’s true, but like most truths, there’s more to the story. It actually took a concussion, a TV show, and echoes from the past to get me to care about cooking. Read more

,

Endangered! Red Meat Carnivores

Beef Brisket Bye-bye

Endangered! Red Meat Carnivores

I come from a long line of now-endangered red meat carnivores. My grandmother made a mean Cornish game hen, but it was her Hungarian goulash and stuffed cabbage (stuffed with ground beef) I most fondly remember.

My mother’s signature recipes were chili con carne, roast beef, steak smothered in buttery onions and mushrooms, beef and peppers, and brisket. Oh, yes, the brisket. Read more

,