On my bedroom dresser stands a photograph of myself with a baby on my back. The child is one of my energetic nieces. The photo was taken a few years ago when my niece, now age 7, could barely walk.
Remember slumber parties? Pigtailed and glassy-eyed, as little girls we giggled into the night in our best PJs.
Sherri (not her real name) was used to seeing her father on weekends, summers, and holidays as a child.
Recent media reports have raised public awareness about the rights and beliefs of certain religious sects.
Going green doesn’t happen overnight.
I must sound the alarm on myself. We’re almost halfway through 2008, and I have barely made progress on my New Year’s resolution to banish chronic tardiness from my life forever.
Years ago, while writing in my bedroom one night, I was caught off guard by a rap on my window one night.
I spent last weekend writing, talking about writing and listening to people talk about writing.
Remember the 1993 movie “Groundhog Day”?
Alfred (not his real name) had noticed erratic changes in his nephew Jay’s behavior. Normally a pleasant and easygoing kid, Jay had reported that people were following him, and he seemed unusually paranoid and distrustful — even of family members.
I once attended a training where the speaker asked those present to participate in an exercise. We were to break up into pairs and tell each other about our week, highlighting the negative parts.