THE BRIDGEHUNTER'S CHRONICLES The 3rd Annual Historic Bridge Conference: Missouri
After having the first two historic bridge conferences in Pittsburgh in 2009 and 2010, the third annual conference took place in Missouri during the weekend of 12-14 August. Missouri, like i... Posted on 8/31/11 at 6:06 PM
REGGIE TALES Michael Hart
I was able to break free from the chains that tie me to my desk for about an hour yesterday. And I'm really glad that I could. A "special assignment" presented itself and I jumped at the opportunity t... Posted on 10/29/10 at 12:00 PM
My house has never looked better. In fact, I’ve never seen it like this. Every single room is perfectly tidy. There is no clutter anywhere. Every paint scratch has been touched up, every floor is clean. Every dish is put away, and each hairdryer and similar appliance (with three girls, I have a lot of them) has its cord carefully wound and is “just so” on the shelf.
The award-winning show “Jersey Boys” is about to leave Chicago. So, I decided to get tickets for myself and my girls, ages 13, 10 and 8, to attend a matinee. “Jersey Boys” is, of course, the Broadway smash about the rise of that crooning quartet called the Four Seasons.
The experience ended up being an interesting lesson in today’s moral sensibilities.
When it comes to germs or bacteria, I’m just not much of a worrier. Generally if food drops on the floor and the dog doesn’t get it first, I consider it still OK for the kids. On the rare occasion when my children get sick, I figure “they’ll get over it.” And I’ve heard that children who grow up around dust have fewer allergies. Let’s just say my house is a case in point.
When I was a kid, I used to color rocks and sell them door-to-door. I usually did pretty well with that. Sometimes I would concoct knickknacks with yarn and hawk those, too. And when it came to selling Girl Scout cookies, I was the champ three years running.
I’m often intrigued by the conversations I overhear when I am having my hair cut. OK, I admit that it’s something of a guilty pleasure to read People magazine while listening to various discussions among people I don’t know, and finding out what they are concerned about and interested in.
In a few days, I’ll mark the fifth anniversary of the afternoon I watched my husband finally walk out of our family life after 17 years of marriage. This time, he wouldn’t return to it. The kids were 10, 8, 5 and 3 when he left.
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