It's called hiatus and it's supposed to make you feel better, take a step back, reexamine your priorities, and probably even some more hocus pocus. Mine turned into almost nine months of not writing, not tending to my extracurriculars, and basically just working and tending to the needs of my job. The result? Hiatus, Schmiatus.… Continue reading Hiatus, Schmiatus…
Tag: #duchess
Perhaps You Need More Stevie…
Sometimes you shake your head in disbelief. And praise the stars above you were born before rap. It's the weekly dinner with the chicks. The Goddess hosts at her abode and The Other Norwegian (remember, The Norwegian's cousin?) cooks the fare. The Goddess and Sweetest G are there. So is She Who Shall Not Be… Continue reading Perhaps You Need More Stevie…
Finally Grown Into My Pearls…
My grandmothers were pearl girls. My Grammie gave me my first strand when I was five, a graduated string with the largest in the middle and one added each year as I grew. She was straitlaced, knew the rules and liked them, and cooked three meals a day every day of her life. My Granna,… Continue reading Finally Grown Into My Pearls…
Sunday Scaries…
A week spent amongst Chickens is always good for the soul. A holiday week spent with Chickens in a brand new home and a first Thanksgiving dinner is a treasure. It's Middle Chicken and Lawyer Boy's new home and their first holiday in it. Le Sigh. Alas, Oldest Chicken and Baby Pea are on their… Continue reading Sunday Scaries…
Hello, California? Party of One…
I left the state for the weekend. I had to. Watching others show off their pandemic coping skills now that it's summer--hiking, boating, lake play, poolside lounging, open air shopping and dining--leaves a girl bereft of cheer. Girls that live on the surface of the sun are doubly locked in. COVID plus heat was supposed… Continue reading Hello, California? Party of One…
Charles Manson Was A Loser…
Ladies, there's a new murder girl in town. She's been around for a bit. I'm just late to the party. Those of us who cannot look away from the gruesome, the bizarre and the just plain WTF are obsessed. Why? It's the combination. This chick talks murder while she does her makeup. No lie. I… Continue reading Charles Manson Was A Loser…
Blame The Thighs…
Writing suffers in the time of Coronavirus. Unlike Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Love In The Time Of Cholera, I don't become more determined, undeterred by obstacle. I blame my thighs. Thigh growth and spread engulfs all in its path leaving little couch room for even Skittish Tabby. He looks at them, eyebrow raised, "What the… Continue reading Blame The Thighs…
Valentine Love or Money…
Buzzfeed lures us in again. This quiz? "Will You Marry for Love Or Money?" Already married for love and that turned out with a dead guy in the woods on a summer day; I think money. Take the quiz. What would you do on a night out? Pick which vacation you'd take. Which car is… Continue reading Valentine Love or Money…
Chrismukkah It is…
We hear it started in The OC. In our abode it's happening because Middle Chicken married Lawyer Boy, who's half Jewish and Baby Chicken's Southern Boy is much more Jewish. In our Catholic household, we couldn't care less what you are as long as there's wine. Fortunately, both Christmas and Hannukah involve fermented grapes. Although… Continue reading Chrismukkah It is…
Becoming A Dude…
I'm becoming a dude. I have a cold. I may be dying. It really is just sniffles, sore throat and aches. Standard cold stuff. My brain signals death is eminent. And then it hits me. In my old age, I'm becoming a dude. You might be too. Think about it. Ten, not to mention twenty,… Continue reading Becoming A Dude…
The Duchess Diaries 