Chocolate on my shirt and a melting candy bar in my hand. I’d made a mess, and I hate messes, plus I’d been caught wiping that chocolate onto my clean, white shirt. As a firstborn, my mother supposedly kept me ultra clean, whisking me away from the slightest mess to put me into another outfit…
On an unusually warm Veterans Day weekend, my husband and I spontaneously decided to visit Mt. Vernon, the home of our first President, George Washington. I was expecting to be awed by the home, but found myself equally inspired by the man, his words and his actions. Duty and home were ever present in Washington’s…
Autumn is a competitive season. Football, politics, World Series, cooking shows. But I have a flaw in my personality: I can’t talk smack. I never could. And all of these competitive events apparently require competent smack talk to fully appreciate the enjoyment they provide. But whenever I try, it comes out stilted or inauthentic or…
My mother knew how to make every holiday (and every day) special. Often, in college when I was stressed about exams or boys or other high-priority college stressors, my mother would come to town and take me on a pumpkin hunting trip. This was a great distraction technique (on which she should have written a…
There is a certain magic created when a successful book is picked up for a blockbuster movie and set in a picture-perfect location where visitors can roam and admire and stand in the footsteps of their literary heroes. To immerse ourselves in something grand that carries a mystique of history or art is irresistible. Plus,…
This past summer my husband and I spent a weekend at Wintergreen Resort. The highlight of the trip was a hike led by an expert at The Nature Foundation at Wintergreen. John, our guide, led our straggly group of twelve strangers on the hike while explaining the geological history of the area and the notorious…
