On the beach trip for Jill’s birthday, the girls stretched out on lounge chairs: talking and reading. I rubbed excess SPF off on my towel and my hands looked like my Mom’s hands. My gut got all scrunched up in a good way. My hands were smooth, fingernails finally growing out from gel abuse. Transforming from dry midwestern hands with the ever present crack on the right thumb. I had island hands! Like my Mom’s - nails never polished - just clean fresh hands. She has been gone for such...

It’s a new year! Time to Swear -To-God you are going to start some exercise routine. “Give yoga another try!” my friends say. The idea of yoga; little girls heads together at a slumber party, shoulders touching, sleeping bags lined up like yoga mats in the studio. Soft, quiet voices, punctuated by bursts of giggles and a “SHHH”. But yoga is no slumber party. And, to the horror of most people I know; I hate yoga. I want to like it. It would be good for me. If I could muscle my way into...

Dillon’s physical test for firefighting is coming up. He is applying for a full time position at a local station and the physical test is part of the application. See my illustration below to understand that this is the most ridiculously hard test you can imagine! “I am #5 on their list right now.” He tells me. It’s a weird system, I think, to apply for fire fighting. An applicant gets points. So Dillon has points for having his EMT, his fire fighter’s certification, for passing a math and...