Once upon a time, I was a wife and mom—a spoiled one. Playing tennis and creating perfect place settings filled my days. Then my husband dropped dead on a sunny day in the woods, and I had to do real work. What we were doing in the woods is a whole story. Suffice it to say, I haven’t been back.
Now I write, widow-snark about my life and yours, and share my observations without having to worry about my sailor mouth and love of vodka. The Norwegian is the dead guy, and The Chickens are the kids. You’re up to speed.
Grab your best bag (Who can afford Hermes anymore?) and follow me down some rabbit holes, through the challenges of work and life with a hefty dose of snark and gossip. I’m fun. You are too. Had you forgotten?