When I woke up this morning to a light coat of snow outlining the trees and roads, I was reminded of a simpler time in my life. A happier time, I suppose. I was remembering snow days, and I remember them fondly. Both my childhood and my children’s childhood. They were magical days full of endless possibilities whether the magic took place indoors or outdoors. Yes, it was a day to reflect because time seemed to stand still amid the …
Tag: conversations confessions and conundrums
Yes, dear readers, you heard that right. After close to twenty years of coloring and styling my hair, my hairdresser made me cry. I have sat in her chair countless times for many occasions; monthly cut and color, graduations, just-because-it’s-a-Friday blowouts. But never before has my hairdresser made me cry. Truth be told, it was not her fault. I brought a bunch of baggage with me to the salon that day. I was sitting on a time bomb of emotions, …
Listen, friends. My mom is cooler than your mom, and I am here to prove it. This isn’t a challenge. It is a fact, so game on. Sure, we all feel that way about our mothers; proud, protective, possessive. We have learned our best qualities from them, naturally, whether it be working, baking, or friend-making. They have their strengths, and in turn, they passed them on to us. I mean, hey, these octogenarians taught us how to be moms, so …
This article appeared in last week’s Main Line Neighbors (West) weekly online newsletter. It is fun to write for such a large audience of my ‘neighbors!’ As always, enjoy! WHAT HAPPENED TO DECORUM?….ON THE MAIN LINE What ever happened to decorum? BY JACKIE (aka Scout) Hi Neighbor! What ever happened to decorum? You know that pesky word defined as “behavior in keeping with good taste and propriety.” Basically, manners and respect. In this instance, I am specifically referring to how we …
(Conversations, Confessions, and Conundrums with Scout) I see words. Kind of like the boy in the movie The Sixth Sense, only he saw dead people. Instead, my gift is this: I see words. In the form of sentences that take on meaning that become stories. My stories. Observations. Of what I do, where I go, what I experience. For inexplicable reasons, they never seem to stop but just keep coming. Ferociously, feverishly, constantly. It is a good thing, right? Or …
