It takes a village to raise a child. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.
Yet, however many times this phrase has been repeated, it hasn’t been enough to take hold. And maybe, just maybe, if we took it to heart, we wouldn’t be in the mess we’re in. Continue reading
For in the early 80s I had a brush with fame. Yes, I was beltin’ out the tunes and dancin’ up a storm. I was hitting the high notes and smacking the low ones, much to my voice instructor’s chagrin. Continue reading
It’s Grand Central Station around here, what with these trains of thought going through my head. Of course, I’m happy to regale you with a few, so join me at the depot for a spell. We can kick back and I’ll order us some refreshing lemonade, spiked with you-know-what. We can then watch these trains go through my head. Trains of thought, that is.
Someone said to me, upon hearing my age, Continue reading
I’m not one to brag but I have to tell you what joy means to me. My children.
Without them, my life would be incomplete. An unfinished symphony, a dangling participle. A cliffhanger without the final chapter. Or a series finale, much like the one for “The Sopranos,” which ended up being reviled by so many. Continue reading
From an ant infestation on Sunday to Sir Paul McCartney eight days later, my birthday week ended with a bang and a whole lotta cashola spent.
Why a “Birthday Week” and not just a day, you might ask?
Because one day won’t do, no sir! You gotta have an entire week to celebrate with mirth and merriment! Here’s how the eight days went down:
Sunday: Attack of the ants. Continue reading
Monica's Tangled Web 