I find myself loving what we make: things that mean something to me. Or sometimes, distressed letters from Walmart. Yeah, that works.
If you ever find yourself in the regions of Kitchener-Waterloo, Ontario, you might consider a few places of interest along the way.
How dare he? This is not the first time he will shave his whiskers for the state, and it will probably not be the last, God forbid.
I reached inside my purse for my wallet, to see, I suppose, if an angel had miraculously tucked a fifty into one of its pockets. I knew I hadn’t, sure as death and taxes.
This is the stage that all of Shari’s thinking blog readers have been dreading for years, when her humor and good sense desert her and she disintegrates into dramatic, navel-gazing grief for weeks on end.
We marked fifteen years this month, with a four-day stay in an apartment made from sparkling surfaces we hadn’t cleaned.