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Talkin’ Trash: The Games Families Play

Will He or Won't He?

talkin' trash: The Games Families Play

Remember when the kids were little and you had family game night? Well, my live-at-home 26-year-old and I still play games together. More specifically, we play one game each week. More specific still, we play the same “talkin’ trash” game every Monday night. We play “Will he or won’t he … take out the trash?”

It’s a fun game. You may even play it at your house. There are set rules to it. It’s predictable – except for the outcome which makes my hair and blood-pressure rise. Read more

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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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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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Middle-aged Chatter

Why Do We All Talk to Strangers?

Do you remember the doll Chatty Cathy? If you grew up in the early 60s, you probably had one. Second to Barbie, this pull-string talking toy was the most popular doll on the market. I had a Chatty Cathy and loved her dearly.

And like my doll, I was a regular Chatty Cathy. I talked so much as a child that my family used to pay me to keep quiet. I’d get a nickel for every fifteen minutes I’d keep still. The truth is, I didn’t collect many nickels.

I wasn’t just chatty. I was really friendly. I once invited a total stranger over to our house. When he showed up, my mother won’t let him in, of course. But he wouldn’t leave. My mother called the police and that night both my parents gave me a stern lecture about not talking to strangers.

Yet, if I wasn’t supposed to talk to strangers, my middle-aged mother was setting a bad example. Read more