The other day, I went to a huge flea market. It’s a weekly event where you can find pretty much everything: junk, antiques, brand-new items, toys, clothes, food, fresh fruits and veggies, plants, live chickens… Yes, live chickens. The place is so big you could spend hours to see all…
I’m absolutely dreading an upcoming event. It’s going to be very stressful and I already feel so much anxiety. It’s not something I can avoid, though. The next two weeks, with prep and then the event itself, will be difficult, and I’ll be glad when it’s all over. Terrified and…
I don’t know if it’s because I’ve become more tough since widowhood or simply because I’m older now. Or maybe it has to do with my menopause-fueled ability to unleash a fierce bitchiness that I simply didn’t possess in my younger years. It’s probably a combination of all of the…
I have a confession to make. It’s really quite embarrassing and terrible. I’m a bad widow. My husband’s online obituary page on tributes.com didn’t even have a photo of him—until now. Nearly 10 years later, I finally added one. (A special thanks to Emily at tributes.com for helping me with…