Some night call for scotch. Be it blended or single. I prefer the neat sort, with an ice back.
The other night, as I tried to keep up with my kids as they pursued their holy quest for candy, I saw many wonderful people I am honored to know. Some are friends and others acquaintances. But all lovely and I was equally thrilled to see each and every one of them. My new friend, with whom we were co-chasers of small disguised carousers had 4 words for me… Continue reading
…broke my heart
…made me love my brothers even more
…made me hate my mother
…made me hate my other mother even more
…made me stronger
…opened my eyes
…did not break my spirit
Well, my bags are packed and I’m ready to go…
That’s not true. All who know me know that I am rarely that together. After all, my flight doesn’t leave for another five and a half hours. Ha! Packed? Pshaw!
Am leaving though…
This is a great article that captures much of what I want to, well, scream to the media at large. Not in any one direction, just to cast as wide a net as possible.
And to the amazing families who are rocking inter-cultural adoption – keep on inspiring us all!!!
Check out this post…connectakid.org
A dear friend with whom I have not spoken in far too long also writes a blog. Her experience is one of cancer and, to me at least, facing cancer’s impact her sense of self. There are no words to express my deep admiration for A.
Every now an again, A. will reference the challenge of writing about her experience; often saying the act of writing brings more to the surface than perhaps she may wish to face. I can relate.
As I stare at this screen, the waft of homemade chicken soup gently brushes by. The pot has been simmering since last night – the key to golden, rich broth/stock shared by my dear friend H. Even the smell is healing to this Jewish soul. Next week, I will be making another pot not here at home…
Boobies, tatas, melons, milk machines, hooters…
Women got ‘em and many love ‘em. I understand why – they are soft and nourishing, curvy and sometimes perky. Firm or squishy, big or small – boobies are everywhere.
Except not quite everywhere. Men not withstanding, not all women have breasts. Women who have had their breasts removed in response to a diagnosis of breast cancer don’t have their breasts anymore. I am not one of those women, thankful that I have not received such a diagnosis.
My breasts, well we have had to have a heart-to-heart recently. Here’s how that came about.
It sure has been a while. If you have been wondering where I have been, or perhaps more accurately, where any new posts have been, well, a new bar opened in my ‘hood and I decided to walk in.
Not saying that makes me Moses AND Muhammad or either of them, but hopefully, you get my drift.
However it is new year! At least for us Jews and I’m climbing back on that blogging wagon. So greetings again dear readers! I hope you are all well and life is being kind.
Here’s to reconnecting!
Off to the Big Apple Ranch to learn how to two step. Never stop growing, ay?
why do people need a happy ending?
Why is it that people, especially women it seems, so desperately want to believe that good exists? Not only do they seem to need to believe it, they are pretty persistent that I believe it too.
Now, mind you, this doesn’t upset me. I just find it, well, interesting. But more on that later.
Here’s what happened after I landed in NYC to begin my new life with my new family…
Just imagine — you’re going to pick-up your daughter from a friend. Driving over there after work, at the stop light making sure the car seat is in the back, looking forward to that first snuggle. Maybe smelling your baby’s neck and kissing her pudgy cheek.
You pull into the driveway and bound out your door. Jog up the front path and knock on the door. Your friend is expecting you so you try the door. It’s only after a couple of minutes that a nagging feeling begins to creep across your heart. Why isn’t she answering the door? Continue reading