Monthly Archives: May 2018



I’ve felt tired and uninspired, which seems a bit Carole King-ish.  Then, my mood lifted and I found my inspiration.  She arrived via a documentary “RBG” and for those of us who don’t usually think of the Supreme Court Justices by their initials alone, Ruth Bader Ginsberg is the consummate rock star.  Her power transcends the bench.  Somehow, this small,older woman, is a connector between generations as well as with minorities.  Her vision of injustice is crystal clear.  My FHB and I went in to the theater with few expectations and came away feeling as though we had attended a musical and left singing her praises.  In a land which has more recently been confused by verbiage, innuendo and scary scenarios, we need someone like RBG to secure our belief that might and right will outlive fright.  She demonstrated that if you are stalwart in your belief about us all being equal in opportunity based on which the doctrines of our land was created, then the answer makes sense.  

To see her in the context of daughter, wife, mother and grandmother, as well as in her role as student, attorney and judge, makes her all the more human. She is loved and loveable.  Her humor and wit make her charming.   We need her compassion and wisdom to guide us.  The fact that she is all of the above, and more, makes her a natural treasure.  Don’t rush off, RGB. We need you now, more than ever.

P.S.  I have decided that this coming summer, reading the constitution will be good for my health.  


Then and now and in between


The picture is about thirty-four years ago.   My mother and  my oldest son.  He’s about four in the picture and she’s about sixty.  Two of the people closest to my heart.  Yesterday was the Yahrzeit (memorial date) of my mother’s passing.  Tomorrow is the ninth Mother’s Day without her.  It is also my half birthday.  My mother was the woman who taught me to celebrate this day in my life among others.  I like to wish happy Half Birthday to people.  I like to have them know that it is a midpoint in our years and something to be acknowledged.  I can’t actually remember what she did to celebrate it with me and I don’t think it included a card because she was frugal and half a card would have been a waste.  She might have made me a card or made me a cake.  I wish I could remember the details.  Instead, I remember the sentiment.

My mother took a lot of ordinary moments and made them special.  Traditions are important and mark the passage of time.  My son is a father to a two year old daughter.  He has learned to celebrate the big days and mark the little ones.  Parenting is challenging and rewarding and somewhere in the middle.  We try to do our best and give our best and impact our children’s days with lots of good moments.  We watch them become their best selves. We deserve a day to honor our accomplishments and the days  in between we get to continue the work, behind the scenes.  We often “mother others”.   To our moms, our children, and ourselves, Happy Mother’s Day.

And they’re off!


Tomorrow is the 143rd running of the Kentucky Derby.  I have to say that somehow I have watched the race on television many times, over the past years.  I don’t know anything about betting.  I generally will “pick” the winner because I like the color of the horse or the horse’s name.  I’ve never been to a horse race in my life but I bet I would like it, if it wasn’t for all the people and I wouldn’t want to wear a big hat.  I am not a hat person and never have been.  In the winter I won’t cover my head and in the summer, the hats never fit well. I have a rather small head, by circumference, and hats just fly off.

However,  I may be wearing a big brimmed hat in the near future because of a recent event that may necessitate wearing big dark sunglassesin addition to a hat.  Perhaps that will draw more attention that I actually want, but I am a bit concerned about concealing my latest mishap.  It is hardly a problem in the first world problem mindset, and yet I am somewhat embarrassed to even bring it up.  Age has actually allowed me to get over being embarrassed fairly quickly and shift to peals of laughter instead, at myself.  My thought is, if something I do makes me laugh, that is actually a good thing.  If it makes someone else laugh, that would be the bonus to a silly, stupid error in judgment.

Last night after a series of long days which lasted into the evenings, I thought I would do some facial grooming, specifically to my eyebrows.   I was tired, which is a chronic issue so I wasn’t paying as much attention as usual, to the task at hand.  My eyebrows, as I age, have taken on a Groucho Marx like growth and as a refined woman, I take care of them, to not frighten small children but to have the look of the right curve and control.  My thought is if I can’t control the hips, the eyebrows must be managed.  But I digress…. I purchased a handy dandy device that grooms and shapes and kind of shaves to even them.  I clearly was not schooled in the actual process of how to do this, but in my usual devil may care “how difficult can this be?” attitude, I took off my glasses and turned the little groomer and aimed above my right eye.  Now, I need to report that without my glasses I can’t really see much.  When people approach me, while my glasses are off, I smile a genuine smile but until they are within about four feet of me, I am not always sure who the smile is at.  Hence (such an underused word), when I attempted to trim, I ended up shaving off half of the eyebrow.  I heard buzzzz and thought, and may have even said out loud “UH-OH!”.  I quickly put my glasses back on and took a look.  It was a non-religious “HOLY CRAP” moment.  I didn’t panic.  I just got up close in the mirror and stared.  It looked so weird.  I thought to myself that this is one of those out of body moments.  I know it is me, but is it really me?  It was and is me.  For a millisecond, I thought, should I do the same on the left or am I completely out of my mind?  I got a grip and decided that leaving it alone and trying to mitigate the damage was probably the best tack.  I was unclear as to what that might be, but washing my face, and turning off all the lights and going to sleep, would allow me time to see if it was just a dream.  So, that’s what I did.  I woke in the morning and re-evaluated my options.  I dried my hair after showering and put on some make-up (on my face) and my glasses on my nose and went to work.  No one noticed.  I came home and my FHB didn’t notice.  Are people blind or polite?  Not quite sure.  The missing half eyebrow is my reality.  Perhaps I will start a trend.  My bet on the Derby is Good Magic. Have you seen his eyebrows?