Curiosities

Holy Rollers and the End of Sunday School

Holy Rollers and the End of Sunday School

Since I went down memory lane with She’s dead to me, and phrases I’d “never heard before,” I thought I’d regale you with a story I heard my freshman year of college. I worked multiple times jobs while I was in college, one of them at a restaurant. The later the night, the wilder or more personal the stories became. Clears throat: off-color and inappropriate. A group of us were talking about…

Not so secret obsession: discussion threads

Not so secret obsession: discussion threads

I have this not so secret obsession with hearing other people’s stories–I love it! Since the pandemic had limited everyone’s in-person face time, I found that I took to reading discussion threads. It became a daily, sometimes twice daily, activity on newsletters and sites such as The George Takai report, Quora, and Factinate (which I found on Quora), occasionally other sites. I’ve cycled through periods of obsessively reading these threads, even when…

Year End Reflections: Owning My Resistance and Looking Within

Year End Reflections: Owning My Resistance and Looking Within

“In the depths of winter, I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” ~Albert Camus A lovely quote that always stops me. However, my last encounter a couple of weeks ago shifted something in me. Timing, I suppose. Living the past two years in my own sort of “depths of winter,” I’m realizing how much of an “invincible summer” is within me. I was too busy looking outward, watching…

I call him Chia (sung to the tune of Flipper)

I call him Chia (sung to the tune of Flipper)

I’ve had a few readers ask why I call my younger son Chia. This post is for you all. It’s also for those who love nicknames and have children who’ve tried to thwart you, lol. If you have a child; have helped raise one; or teach them–you’ve been thwarted. 😉☺️ It all started long ago, when my younger son decided that he didn’t like having his hair cut. Both he and his…

She said what? She’s dead to me.

She said what? She’s dead to me.

There we were, in the middle of a meeting, discussing a controversial person. It’s the usual back and forth and talking over each other when I hear the words: She’s dead to me. Those words cut through the noise as my head turned toward the speaker. It wasn’t the outspoken person. Nor was it the angry person. It was the nicest person in the room who quietly said that. Honestly, if we…

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