What’s school for?
A blast from my past.
Christmas Eve tall over again.
Everything (OK, not everything, but something) I need to know about politics, I learned from curling.
A lesson from my father that has stood the test of time.
Just put it in the mic-oh-wave. I look at my visitor happily ensconced on the black-vinyl bench of our built-in kitchen table. Happily because it was fun to scramble up and sit like a big girl: at home she has to use a booster seat. But that happily-ness is fading …
The little kid within still carries a grudge against a suspicious school nurse from 40 years ago.
I’m getting the Look. You know the one: the face loses expression, the entire body goes still.