I loved Lucy in black and white on a screen that was more fat than flat. The picture was often fuzzy, something we called "snow." No one had high definition because it hadn't been invented yet. Nor had reality TV — unless you counted "The Lawrence Welk Show." We huddled around the extra-large, 24-inch picture tube console and got up from the couch when we wanted to change one of the four or five channels that our rabbit ears were able to pull in. <
Lately I've been feeling guilty about holidays. Days that are supposed to be celebrations filled with joy and fun fill me with dread and anxiety. I bet I'm not alone. Holidays often catch me off guard. I'm busy living my simple and ho-ho hum life when — bang! It's a national holiday, the kids are off school and I was supposed to bake a cake.
My calendar tells me where to go and what to do. With one quick glance I get a visual on how many days I have to prepare for Thanksgiving or whether my husband's birthday falls on a Thursday or Friday. By this time of year, the calendar is well-used and well-worn. It has been examined, peered at, studied and scrutinized so many times that its pages are no longer stapled neatly together.
What better way to be pampered than having someone make your bed?
There are 7.5 billion of us living, eating and breathing here on planet Earth. And although each of us is unique, we have one thing in common. Each of us, without exception, began our journey in the same way: as newborn babies. Naked and afraid. Think about that. Let it sink in. Look around and embrace the concept.
Hand soap is hand soap, right? It turns out I hit the jackpot with my random choice of product. Like I said, I didn't notice right away. But when I did the words on the label became impossible to ignore: Miracle Marula oil.
Summer's waning and in my part of town that means one thing: time to take the boat out of the water.
And I'm not sure how I survived prior to having the find my family app at my fingertips. But retailers are attempting to influence us in a new way (or at least new for me). They want us to purchase our groceries online.
The room filled with a warm fruity scent. Fresh. Simple. Sweet. Peachy. Maybe peach wasn't my first choice, but it wasn't all bad. I kind of liked it.
> I'm not a baker. Mostly because I lack a penchant for measuring and exact oven temperatures. But when your kid needs cupcakes, you deliver cupcakes — in this case, from scratch.