I had a crummy day yesterday. Not all of it was crummy, not even most of it was, but by the time I was heading upstairs to get ready for bed, I had convinced myself that it had been entirely crummy and that today would be more of the same. I was convincing myself that crummy, in fact, was going to be my new normal.
As I was brushing my teeth, my memory transported me back to another remarkably crummy day which took place about 8 or 9 years ago when my husband and I still lived in Alaska.
Continue reading Just a Bad Day. Not a Bad Life.
I like shoveling snow. I always have. It makes my cheeks pink and it makes me feel young and alive—what’s not to like? My husband doesn’t enjoy it the way I do. He’s very tall and most shovels are designed for smaller people. A tall man with a short shovel is a bad combination—one that has caused Bill to throw his back out in the past. So I try to get to the shovel before he does, and I’m happy to do it.
But I absolutely do not like shoveling the same snow twice . . .
The Blizzard of 2016 hit...
Continue reading A Blizzard Tale