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
I couldn’t sleep last night. As I tossed and turned, I read an article that got me in a dither: Millennials don’t give a sheet! That’s right – they are rejecting top sheets. So, of course, I got up on the wrong side of the bed today, and as I made the bed, I decided I wanted to vent about, of all things, all things bedding!
A lot has changed in the world of bedding since I was a little girl. First, there’s this sheet crisis! Read more
Ah, if I ruled the world and could be Queen … just like on that popular TV show of decades ago, Queen for a Day. I’d right some wrongs, enforce some rules, and, maybe settle a petty score or two! I mean what’s power if you can’t abuse it just a teensy bit, all the while wearing a tiara and robe, parked on a royal throne? Read more
“In Hartford, Hereford, and Hampshire …
Hurricanes hardly happen.”
My Fair Lady, Lerner and Loewe
Hurricanes also happen in Florida, and as a result of one, this hurricane-hound now calls California home.
It was all so scary at first – given up to a Florida shelter and then scooped up by a huge, noisy, metal bird and taken to a different shelter in a strange new city. Read more
Trick-or-woof! So barks Olga, our four-year-old Labrador, and ruler of our roost.
OK. Scary she’s not. Silly she is.
So, Olga is opting for elegance, not fierce, furry or fiery this Halloween.
But trick-or-treaters beware! Olga’s got an ear-splitting warning/welcome bark and a face-drenching lick!
And while Handsome Hubby and I are away vacationing, guess who’s next week’s Muddling through Middle Age’s special guest columnist?
Hint, hint. She’s a middle-aged muddler’s best friend! Woof!
I’ve got religion! And like all religious zealots, I speak of nothing else. My new-found religion is not a traditional religion, nor is it New Age hippy, dippy. My new religion is my new diet. More specifically, it is my new-found diet success! Read more
I’m trying a new form of therapy. No, not cognitive behavior therapy. Not somatic therapy, nor psychoanalytic therapy. Not even retail therapy. Instead, I’m fixating on Apartment Therapy.
Are you familiar with Apartment Therapy? AT, as I like to call it, is a lifestyle blog and publishing company focused on home design and decor. And it’s not any old blog. According to Forbes Magazine, AT is “one of the most influential interior design sites on the Web.”
You might wonder why I, a homeowner with a five-bedroom house, reads AT. Read more
You’ve got to hand it to Handsome Hubby: He is a master at making a girl “an offer she cannot refuse.”
“Come with me to La Jolla for the weekend,” he said with that sweet, husky voice of his.
“Just for fun?” I asked suspiciously, knowingly.
“Well, sort of,” he said, starting the famous HH hem-and-haw dance. Read more
Handsome Hubby and I are approaching our 32nd wedding anniversary, and I must say we’ve really got the art of conversation down to a science. The renowned Navajo code-talkers have nothing on us. With just a few words, HH and I can decipher (and deride) each other’s meaning perfectly.
Here are a few true-life conversations from our household that I bet you’ll recognize.
I say: “What about those forms I needed your help with?” reminding HH about this or any long-ago request I’ve made.
HH says: “Hum, it rings a bell.”
HH is hearing: Blaring alarm bells.
HH is thinking: “Mayday. Mayday. Marital iceberg ahead.” Read more
It’s summertime, and I’m exhausted. I cannot keep up the pace.
Summer used to be about relaxing and taking a break from usual routines.
Summer used to be about vacations and long, lazy days at the beach.
Summer used to be about suntans and sunburns. Over-chlorinated swimming pools and bring-tears-to your-eyes salty water ocean waves. About letting the mind wander and go free, watching the clouds and the waves.
The TV got a rest. There were too many reruns. Instead, there were summer book reads. Trashy novels for middle-aged moms (and dads). Required book lists for the kids.
But not this summer. Not for our family, and I bet, not for yours. Read more