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This is the way I always remember my father. He was much younger than I am now — 20 years or so. Today is his birthday: he would be 99, were he still with us. Although (of course) he is, for his four daughters. Whenever we get together, old stories join us. Sometimes even new…

In the aftermath of Christmas, I have time to appreciate. The hectic nature of a blended family Christmas —  two family dinners, juggling move-ins & move-outs, coordinating presents for the shared grandson,  not to mention travel & the ubiquitous winter viruses — means that Christmas is almost a blur.  Certainly there are moments my grandson…

This Hallowe’en my grandson was a Ninja Turtle. Donatello, to be precise: Donnie, GiGi! Wearing his Ninja Turtle pyjamas, wielding his formidable plastic sword, he wreaked cuteness on the neighbourhood. And expanded my always-growing beginner’s heart at least 2 sizes. His father AND his uncle were Ninja Turtles, more than 2 decades ago. Back when these…

 This is how we spent two hours Friday: lined up to cross the French Broad River bridge. TWICE. (I’ve been calling it the French Bread River Basin since then; it is neither broad nor bread, but certainly it’s worth poking fun at). And here’s the catch: we didn’t have to cross it even once, much less twice:…
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