Stories About Muddled With Family

Nature Abhors a Vacuum. Worrywart Women Do Too

A Void of Information Creates Havoc

Nature Abhors a Vacuum. Women Do Too

In physics, the Latin term horror vacui, nature abhors a vacuum, comes to us from Aristotle, and no, it does not refer to a fear of vacuums or cleaning!

In people-speak, the term means there are no naturally-occurring empty spaces because denser surrounding material immediately fills the void.

I’m no scientist. So, who am I to argue with Aristotle? I would, however, add an important corollary; Women also abhor vacuums.

Vacuums = Worrywarts. Let Me Explain

Whenever there’s a “vacuum” of information, a woman’s mind, much like a washing machine, starts spinning and quickly reaches the agitation cycle, coming up with all sorts of negative, awful conclusions to fill the worrisome info-void. Read more

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The Kids Won’t Leave

So, I'm Running Away from Home

The kids won't leave so I'm running away from home

“More Americans 18-to-34 Now Live with Parents Than with Spouse.”

That’s the terrifying finding from a recent U.S. Census Bureau study. And for all you aspiring empty nesters, the bad news continues: Read more

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Users’ Manuals I Could Really Use

Help Needed as I Muddle Through Middle Age

Users Manuals I Could Use

So much information. So much misinformation. Politics! Parenting adult children! Aging! Where – and to whom – do you turn when you really need to know what’s what? Where are the users’ manuals I – and all middle-aged muddlers – could really use? Read more

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Death and Taxes … and Snoring

Confessions from the Guest Room

Death and Taxes ... and Snoring

Nothing in life is certain, but death and taxes. True, but in my mind the list is incomplete. Snoring and sleep problems, the handmaidens of the middle-aged and elderly, are also life’s certainties.

And if you agree, then it is time for true confessions. Fess up, ladies. How many of you have fled the marital bed and sleep in separate rooms from your husband or significant other? Read more

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The Joy of Laundry

Robots, Step Away from My Machine!

The Joy of Laundry

Some women find bliss doing downward dog. Some get their Zen from deep breathing. Me? I get my life affirmations doing laundry. Yes, doing laundry, a task most consider drudgery and toil. I know it’s odd, but before I explain why, I must register my alarm. There’s a technological “advance” on the horizon that threatens my laundry delight.

First, about my love of laundry: It began, as most things do, with my parents. Read more

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The Great Couch Quest

Will We Find a Sofa or Sadness?

The Great Couch Quest

Some quest for El Dorado; some for the Fountain of Youth. Others seek world peace or an end to poverty. Well, good for them.

Handsome Hubby and I have our own noble quest. We search for something of beauty; something that will bring joy to family and friends. We seek a couch, comfy and chic.

We have pursued our noble quest for ten months so far, and so far, we have met only hardship, dashed hopes, scorn, and failure.

Seemingly simple you might think to buy a living room sofa, one that’s soothing and sleek … and somewhat affordable. And also, ideally, delivered before the End of Days or, at least, before the next round of holidays and birthday celebrations. But simple it is not. Read more

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Valentine’s Day: The Prettiest Girl in the Room …

He Used to Say So All the Time .. Used to.

Happy Valentine's Day

It’s Valentine’s Day, a day fraught with all sorts of emotion, memories, and expectations. I personally have always loved the day. It follows by three days my parents’ anniversary and the birth of my first child. My father, who was quite the romantic, made a big deal of Valentine’s Day and so, it was very special around our house when I was growing up. As a dating young miss and Ms., I received flowers, cards, candies, and other delights with the best of them. It was all fun.

And as a special bonus, 34 years ago on Valentine’s Day, I was anointed one of the “10 Most Eligible Women in the World” by United Press International (UPI), the international news agency whose newswires, photos, films, and audio services provided news to thousands of newspapers, magazines, and radio and television stations.

I know. It’s hard to believe looking at chubby, middle-aged me today, but in 1984 the news service named me to that “Most Eligible” list along with blonde bombshell Loni Anderson; Christie Hefner, Hugh’s daughter; Lady Sarah Armstrong-Jones,  niece of Queen Elizabeth, and Patti Davis, daughter of President and Nancy Reagan.

“Why me?” you rightly ask. Read more

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You Can Make a House Smart, but Not a Homeowner

And That Smarts

Smart House, but Not a Smart Homeowner

You can make a house smart, but not a homeowner. I know from first-hand experience. You see, I live in a smart house. “Live” is perhaps an inaccurate description. “Trapped” is a better word.

You see, I have a techno-wizard son and an enabling husband, who enthusiastically says “yes” to every new electronic device the “Techno-Wiz” wants to install and program into our house.

My friends think I’m lucky to have the Techno-Wiz on-call 24/7 to solve my computer needs, but I know the ugly truth: He and my husband are engaging in a modern form of gaslighting, ostensibly working to modernize the house in ways I don’t—and will never—understand. It’s driving me crazy and that’s their real goal. Read more

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Instant Pot Madness

Big Boys and Their Kitchen Toys

Instant Pot Madness

Christmas has come and gone, but Instant Pot madness lingers at our house.

Handsome Hubby (HH), a modest fellow of few wants and needs, had expressed a gift wish for an Instant Pot, a wish I failed to heed until it was too late. I should have realized he was serious when he started reading New York Times Instant Pot articles to me with the solemnity he usually reserves for stories about the environment and the Golden State Warriors.

What is it about men and their desire for gadgets? Read more

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I Can’t Get No Satisfaction

But the Show Must Go On

I can't get no satisfaction

So sang the Rolling Stones. I know how they feel. For sadly, I can’t get no satisfaction. My husband no longer satisfies my needs the way he did in the glory days of our courtship and first years of wedded bliss.

“Oh, God, not again,” he moaned just the other day as I gently nudged him awake. “We just did it,” he lamented.

“Come on,” I demurred sweetly. “That was hours ago. Come on. Get up.”

“You’re killing me,” he protested. “I just cannot do this seven-nights-a-week and twice on weekends. I’m not young anymore.”

“Come on,” I repeated. This time in a firmer voice.

“You’re insatiable,” he muttered weakly.

Now, I suppose you think I’m talking about sex … Read more

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