In 2002 or so, I wasn’t in the best place…physically, mentally, or spiritually. I was struggling with my life and music was my savior. I was actively writing songs for myself and for a friend’s band I played in called Jo’s Diner. One day, for whatever reason, I decided to make an EP (a short version of what used to be called an “LP”…a long-playing record, or album.) The EP was called Fragile Heart and it contained six songs, five of which were mine. A colleague I performed with graciously agreed to play sax on the little project, and we recorded it in another friend’s studio in Saskatoon…
I’ve been blessed to attend various support groups over the past two years, and have recorded many of the more meaningful comments and quotes that have been made by others in my pink notebook, along with my own thoughts, many of which have been shared (respecting anonymity, of course) with TPN readers over the past year. Continue reading
Cybill was THE model of teenage perfection in the 1970s, as visualized in Cover Girl ads in many issues of influential magazines, like this one.
I’m a pretty typical late Baby Boomer woman, I think. I grew up in an era (a really long one) where women were objectified constantly in the media (not that we’re entirely finished doing that) and where certain cultural definitions of beauty were foisted on young women at a most vulnerable time in life–high school.
Today is my birth year birthday. I was born in 1958, and today I turn 58 years old. I was only recently acquainted with this special birthday and decided it was a random reason to do a little thinking. (Apparently there’s also a “golden” birthday, which happens when your birthday falls on the day of your birth [i.e. if you were born on a Thursday, every birthday that falls on Thursday is golden.] I think. If you know it’s different, please comment!) But only the birth year birthday happens once in a lifetime. Continue reading
When I was a pre-teen, we moved out of the city to a rural acreage. We did this because my brother had died tragically at 19 in a car accident, and my mother couldn’t bear living in the house where he’d been raised. It was meant to be a fresh start for our family, and it was full of new adventures. The first thing that happened was that my sister and I got horses. The property housed a large dog kennel operation, which we inherited. It became the focus of our lives for the next seven years. Continue reading
Prep Time: 15 minutes (not counting berry-picking! 🙂 Cooking Time: 45 minutes Cooling Time: 10-15 minutes Time to table: 1 hour 15 minutes
Servings: 4 (I always double this at least, bake in separate pans and freeze the extra.)
So I grew up in Kansas at a time when the state was Republican, but had a Democrat as its governor. Is it any wonder I was politically conflicted? The older I get the more I realize that left and right party ideals are not nearly as black and white as they used to be. And in those decades, the traditional two parties have devolved into a spectrum of grays, like center Republicans (are they conservative Democrats?) and other splinters like the Tea Party that some describe as just a smidge left of the Ku Klux Klan. So these days I define myself more by what I feel is right and wrong to me rather than by a party affiliation. Continue reading
Why me, Lord? Maybe you just received divorce papers. Or you broke your favorite cut glass serving bowl from your grandmother (not that I just did that), or were rejected when you asked for something. Whatever the disappointment, sometimes you just need to throw yourself a feelings feté.
So two weekends ago I had a rare gift: I got to spend two days in New York City, where I lived for a few years more than three decades ago. I had only gone back a couple of times after I moved away, and even that was still 20 years ago. A lot of living was packed into that short time.
...A riff on generalizing, brains and melting butter...
So this is a big topic for me. I’m probably going to write five posts on it…that’s how many different reasons I’ve come up with so far for why in God’s name we don’t ask for help when we need it. To ask for help is to make yourself vulnerable in a moment. To admit a lack of something, a chink in the armor of your otherwise amazing-ness, is like, well, it can be embarrassing. And scary. In this first post, I need to set this all up. Let’s talk a bit about predictive science, the brain, generalization and melting butter.