Both the mighty and the not-so-mighty worry. Shakespeare’s Prince Hamlet pondered lofty questions from his castle keep; I ponder less esoteric topics like how to keep olive oil. Hamlet contemplated the unfairness of life and debated avenging his father’s murder by his uncle, now stepfather and king. He pondered life itself: To be, or not
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/olive-oil-968657.jpg36485472Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2017-08-23 09:53:352018-10-05 11:41:40Where Do You Keep Your Olive Oil?
It used to be that criticism belonged to the ranks of five classes of people – professional critics, impartial consumer product reviewers, your mother, your best girlfriend, and your in-laws. Now, thanks to the Internet, everybody’s a critic. Everybody with a bone to pick — informed or terribly ill-informed — is a critic. You can
Dear Middle-Aged Muddlers, I hate to complain, but I just got back from my so-called vacation and I cannot tell you how much I wish I had followed my instincts and opted for that restful, peaceful stay-cation I so dreamed of. As you may recall, Handsome Hubby (HH) had invited me to join him on
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2017/08/shutterstock_78370258.jpg60009000Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2017-08-02 10:03:142018-10-05 11:41:40Celebrity Diet: Words to Live By
I’m not sure what prompted the recollection. I was just sitting on the couch watching some silly spy movie for the 17th time with Handsome Hubby. Somewhere between the commercials, the snacks and nodding off, I engaged in a little middle-aged woolgathering, the way we of a certain age do from time to time. I
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/The-Avengers-Emma-Peel-mrs-emma-peel-33340990-800-600.png600800Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2017-07-26 08:58:592018-06-28 17:10:26CIA? Me, a Spy? Oh, My
My Husband Threw a Dinner Party, but I Wasn't Invited
“Honey, do you mind if we host a dinner fundraiser at the house for XYZ solar energy non-profit organization next month?” queried Handsome Hubby (HH). “Of course not, darling,” I devotedly replied. “My casa es tú casa,” I oh-so-wittily added. “You won’t have to do anything,” he assured me. “It will all be catered and
https://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2017/07/Guess-Who.jpeg502682Karen Galatzhttps://muddling.me/wp-content/uploads/2024/10/kg-logo.pngKaren Galatz2017-07-19 08:00:462018-10-05 11:29:16Guess Who’s Not Coming to Dinner?
Where Do You Keep Your Olive Oil?
Culinary Questions Meet Midlife Uncertainty
Both the mighty and the not-so-mighty worry. Shakespeare’s Prince Hamlet pondered lofty questions from his castle keep; I ponder less esoteric topics like how to keep olive oil. Hamlet contemplated the unfairness of life and debated avenging his father’s murder by his uncle, now stepfather and king. He pondered life itself: To be, or not
Everybody’s a Critic
Feedback Bites Back
It used to be that criticism belonged to the ranks of five classes of people – professional critics, impartial consumer product reviewers, your mother, your best girlfriend, and your in-laws. Now, thanks to the Internet, everybody’s a critic. Everybody with a bone to pick — informed or terribly ill-informed — is a critic. You can
Hawaii Va-cay. Hawaii Dismay.
Or How I Wish I Spent My Summer Vacation
Dear Middle-Aged Muddlers, I hate to complain, but I just got back from my so-called vacation and I cannot tell you how much I wish I had followed my instincts and opted for that restful, peaceful stay-cation I so dreamed of. As you may recall, Handsome Hubby (HH) had invited me to join him on
Celebrity Diet: Words to Live By
2 a.m., Any Night of the Week That’s it. I’ve binged again. Must stop. Must take control. I will go on a Celebrity Diet. Starting right now.
CIA? Me, a Spy? Oh, My
The Day The Agency Called
I’m not sure what prompted the recollection. I was just sitting on the couch watching some silly spy movie for the 17th time with Handsome Hubby. Somewhere between the commercials, the snacks and nodding off, I engaged in a little middle-aged woolgathering, the way we of a certain age do from time to time. I
Guess Who’s Not Coming to Dinner?
My Husband Threw a Dinner Party, but I Wasn't Invited
“Honey, do you mind if we host a dinner fundraiser at the house for XYZ solar energy non-profit organization next month?” queried Handsome Hubby (HH). “Of course not, darling,” I devotedly replied. “My casa es tú casa,” I oh-so-wittily added. “You won’t have to do anything,” he assured me. “It will all be catered and