Maybe invincible is pushing the envelope a bit, but I’ve got to say getting my Covid 19 booster last week makes me feel safer than I’ve felt in quite a while. In seven days the vaccine will reach maximum effectiveness and I’ll truly feel as strong as Wonder Woman (my favorite superhero). Even with my sore arm, I feel a freedom and lightness of heart I haven’t felt in almost two years.

Anyone who tells me they don’t have Covid exhaustion, is either lying or they really enjoy their solitude. Unfortunately, many who are not vaccinated are NOT living in isolation and with their blatant disregard for science and their strong desire to socialize, the pandemic rages on.

Sadly, I know a couple of people who have refused to vaccinate, and although they are at least being careful, I really wish they would reconsider. The biggest fear is an allergic reaction (like Aaron Rodgers – Really, Aaron, a big strong guy like you? If you’re so afraid of drugs, I hope you don’t take anything for your injuries. That shit is much more toxic than a Covid 19 vaccine.). But I digress. I know from experience that allergies can be concerning. I’ve had a few scary allergic reactions to prescriptions in my time, but I took a leap of faith with this vaccine and now I feel like I can actually leap tall buildings – or at least have coffee with my friends. One step closer to truly being INVINCIBLE!           

Polio almost erased us

For anyone who is still not convinced that the vaccine is safe, please ponder some history: What would have happened if our predecessors refused to get vaccinated for smallpox? Or measles? Or polio? Or whooping cough? Many of us would not be here today because our grandparents or parents wouldn’t have lived to bear children. My own father nearly died of polio before vaccines were available and before I was conceived. (I’m so glad he survived to give me my life! But his life would have been so much better without the residual effects of his polio).

Vaccines have saved so many lives so why is this vaccine suddenly a symbol of freedom – a political war cry? When did we stop caring about our fellow humans for the sake of politics? This is not a political issue; this is a matter of LIFE or DEATH.

I’m sure everyone knows my politics and either agrees with me or…likes me anyway. I hope I haven’t overstepped my reach on my usually non-political blog, but if I’ve pissed some people off, so be it! I will no longer be silent on an issue that could have ended the pandemic months ago. If you disagree, please feel free to express your views in the comments.

To anyone who is still reading, this is my plea: Get a shot in the arm and do your part in saving humankind.

Love to all. Be safe, be kind and be like me – Invincible!


Carpe Diem


One of Dad’s favorite expressions was Carpe Diem. He told me it meant “seize the day”. As a kid I didn’t know what that looked like—I was always looking forward to the next big event. I remember the words I spoke so often: “I just can’t wait until…(vacation, summer, Christmas, my birthday, you name it, I couldn’t wait)”. My mother’s response: “You’ll just have to wait.”

So, I spent my childhood waiting. Did I enjoy my individual days? I think so, but maybe that’s just me reflecting on my past, thinking about neighborhood picnics, evenings playing kick the can and afternoons swinging on the rope swing that flew out over the gully.

I have been guilty of thinking too much about the past (either romanticizing or regretting my decisions) or worrying about the future. Did I live for the day? Did I ever “seize the day”? I don’t think so, but that changed for me when the pandemic hit. Why did it take so long?

Today is yesterday’s future and will be tomorrow’s past, but it will mean nothing if I don’t live TODAY to the fullest. That doesn’t mean throwing caution to the wind by eating all the chocolate or laying on the couch watching trash TV(although I’m not above that). To me, making the best of each day means talking a walk, exploring the world around me, writing a new chapter or reading someone else’s words, calling a friend, comforting a loved one—in other words, just being present. I’ve seen more beauty in the world and found more connection in the past year than I had in the past ten years. It is wonderful to be present even as we stand six feet apart.

Now, with vaccinations, we can move a little closer, hug our friends and really “seize the day”—or can we? As much as I try my best to focus on this day alone, I can’t help worrying about the future just a little. Where are we going from here? Will we ever reach herd immunity if people keep refusing vaccinations? Will it ever be safe again to “seize the day” without fear? I hope so.


I was supposed to be in Whistler this week, enjoying my timeshare with some of my wonderful Canadian friends. The border is opening a bit too late for me this year, but as much as I’d like to say, “I just can’t wait till next year” (as I so often did as a kid), I will find joy in today in my own little world. I will take a walk with my new best friend, Benny (my adorable rescue dog), post this blog, maybe add a chapter to my next book and later, I hear there’s a live band playing at my favorite golf course tonight. I’m on my way…

Carpe Diem!

To Hug Again…

IMG_0010To hug or not to hug? That is the question. For the past year, I’ve opted for the safe route—NOT to hug—not just to keep myself safe, but to make sure I am keeping those around me safe. It’s been incredibly hard to keep my arms at my sides when I want to hug my daughter, my sister or my friends. I have kept my hands to myself for over a year, but not without a price.

I don’t think I am alone when I say the lack of human touch affected my health. A massage would have been nice or even someone to just hold my hand or put an arm around my shoulder. Being single this past year has made it even harder as I chose not to risk entering the dating pool.perf5.000x8.000.indd

The good news here is my lack of social interaction provided an opportunity to hunker down and get serious about finding a home for my book. Perhaps I wouldn’t have been so focused on that if I were out playing with my friends. A little promo here: you can buy my book, The Price of Secrets with the links on this blog and I would not be opposed to you sharing any positive remarks 😊.

The bad news, of course, was the lack of human touch. One of the hardest things I faced was sharing my home with my daughter for almost a year while avoiding those coveted hugs. Because of our forays into the world (grocery store, golf course, Costco), we were both afraid to hug—she was afraid for me because I was old and I was afraid for her because she has asthma. I am so happy to say that all changed when we were both vaccinated. We finally feel free to hug one another.

As we all get vaccinated, the world is opening up. I only hope EVERYONE will go forward with the vaccine so we won’t regress to the levels of last year. I don’t want to live my life on ZOOM! I hope all of you will soon be feeling as safe as I do (I’m 3 months past my second shot). It’s a wonderful feeling and…

I am ready to hug again!

Release Me!

When I was eleven years old, writing my first article for the Nosy Neighborhood News, I had big dreams of writing books, essays, poetry and the like. As the years passed, I was convinced that becoming an author was, indeed, a dream I would probably never realize. (I still hear voices in my head telling me to do something productive rather than artistic).

But a few years ago, after spending most of my life making a living, I decided to make a life. I started putting words on paper (or cyber paper)— scratches in a notebook, notes on loose scraps of paper, ramblings on my computer—that seemed to be forming a story. A novel seemed like a daunting task, but one word after another, after another, after another led to more words than I had ever written and now all those words are about to be published.

Yes, I have a Worldwide Release date from my publisher, The Wild Rose Press, Inc. and here it is:

The Price of Secrets—Release date April 7, 2021

If you haven’t noticed by now, I am over the moon about this. It is truly a dream come true for a little girl who didn’t dare believe she would one day be an author. But I did it!  On April 7, 2021 I will officially be a published author.

Reaching this point has been a lifelong journey, but I am here to tell you that whether you’re in your 20’s or 60’s (my category)—or anywhere in between or around the edges—it is never too late to reach for the stars.

So, for all my friends sharing their stories, drawings, paintings or crafts on Facebook or for those afraid to share their creative voice, I say “Go for it!” Let the world see you.

I see you.

The Price of Secrets

Contrary to the title of this piece, I’m not harboring a life-altering secret.  Maybe I’m holding on to a few little secrets from my mostly vanilla life, but nothing for which I am paying much of a price. The truth is, I am not good at keeping things to myself, so my life is pretty much an open book.

But speaking of books, my novel, THE PRICE OF SECRETS, will be published this year—hopefully in a couple of months—with this beautiful cover. Unlike me, my main character, Jamie Madison, has one big secret while those around her have a few secrets of their own. Here’s a little teaser:

If Jamie Madison had never come home, her secret would have been safe. But safety in not in her DNA and now DNA is exactly what she needs to unravel her long-kept secret. Despite the consequences, she’s on her way home for her twenty-fifth high school reunion where she will find the answers she seeks. Will she have the nerve to reveal the secret that has haunted her since she left Seattle after her high school graduation twenty-five years ago?

Writing this book made me realize that we all have secrets—big or small—that most of us are afraid to share with the world. Maybe the price of sharing our secrets is small, but maybe some of us have secrets that have stolen a piece of our hearts for many years. Is it time to share your secrets? Although this book is definitely NOT autobiographical, there are a few characters with traits quite similar to people in my life. So, my big secret is that this book healed a broken piece of my heart when I think of those friends and/or family members (still keeping the secret of which characters mirror real people).

It is no secret that I have missed friends and connection this past year. I’m a hugger and have not been able to use my arms for that much needed embrace of love and comfort. I promise all of you I will hug each one of you as soon as we are all safe again—maybe at my book launch!

Rose Colored Glasses

I’ve always had a tendency to look at the world through rose colored glasses, hoping for the best and believing that things will get better. Even with the rosy tint, I can’t say the world is meeting my expectations at the moment as I wake up each day, don my mask and head out into a virus infused environment. Honestly, as I remove the glasses for a moment, clusterfuck seems to describe the scene.

Despite the world view, my personal outlook continues to be filtered through those rose colored glasses and it finally paid off.

It has been my dream for many years, to finish my first novel and find a home for my crazy story. I don’t know where this story came from—I swear this is not an autobiography—but I loved the way it turned out and I desperately hoped an agent or publisher would feel the same. Finally, I got my wish.

I accept this rose

After five years of querying and pitching my novel, on August 30, 2020 at 8:35 p.m. I received the email I had been waiting for from my new publisher—The Wild Rose Press. My rose-colored glasses manifested a garden full of roses—my division in their family is the Champagne Rose where they place all their Women’s Fiction titles. In that email, they welcomed me to their garden and offered me a contract which I, of course, accepted. It will take some time to edit and complete the details, but soon I will be able to say I am a published author.

 Me? An Author?

If you can’t tell by now, I am over the moon with excitement. This is a dream come true and I am so very grateful for all the help and support I received from friends, family and especially my critique group who helped me with changes that may have made the difference.

Goodbye Sweet Hanni

Seven has always been my lucky number, but on July 7, 2020 my luck ran out. On the Hanni's last car ride7th day of the 7th month of a year that has been like no other, my sweet Chiweenie, Hanni, took her last labored breath. With Britt by my side, I held Hanni in my arms as my wonderful Veterinarian helped her cross the Rainbow Bridge peacefully.

In her last days, I carried her outside to do her business as she could no longer see. Despite her impaired vision, she still found joy in sniffing the grass and laying in the sunshine. On rainy days, she opted for the puppy pads, usually getting close, but often causing ‘mom’ to clean up behind her. I was happy to do it for this girl—the sweet girl who brought me so much joy over the past eight years.

My only regret is that I only had her for eight of her fourteen years. My sister rescued her about ten years ago and gave her to my mom. I, in turn, rescued her from my mom two years later. Maybe Mom thought she was being kind when she fed her snacks, but after too many dove bars and several added pounds, Hanni needed a new home and I was elected.

Although I had sworn I would never have another pet (it’s too damn hard to let them go), I agreed to take her in and have not regretted one day of our journey together. Many have said she was lucky to have such a loving home, but I know in my heart that I was the lucky one.

She arrived as my kid left for college, so my empty nest had room for a companion—someone to talk to at night and, surprisingly, one who talked back to me. I wish I could share the video of her sweet howl as I swear it sounds like “I love you”, matching my words to her. Yes, I loved that girl…so very much.

And, I’m not the only one who will miss her. Cash barked at her every day, but now she wonders what happened to her little pal.

I will miss our walks around the neighborhood and

our trips to the dog beach where she reigned as Queen. It didn’t matter if the dog was a great dane or a miniature poodle my little chihuahua-dachsund mix (a.k.a. chiweenie)  let those dogs know she was the boss.


The days were wonderful, but more than anything, I’ll miss settling in for the evening with her head on my lap. She knew I needed her these last few months and I can never thank her enough for making quarantine bearable. I can only hope I made her last days a little easier, too.


Love you, Hanni girl.

Lucky Day? Compared to What?

My lucky four-leaf clover

Is it okay to use luck and pandemic in the same sentence? How can this be my lucky day when I am still in lockdown? Those are the questions I asked myself yesterday.

As I took my afternoon walk, I found a four-leaf clover. I must admit, I peruse the clover patches I pass every day, hoping for a sign that things will turn around. It’s silly, I know, but finding this gem in patch of unremarkable three-leafers, made me smile—gave me hope.

After a rocky 40+ days in lockdown, I was full of an anxiety I thought I left behind years ago. Staring my fears in the face the last couple of weeks as I watched people rally with semi-automatic weapons for their favorite restaurants and tattoo parlors to open, I had nearly lost hope. When dying for a haircut could literally lead to death, I decided I didn’t care how nice my hair might look in the casket. C’mon people, one more month of hunkering down will not ruin our lives—it will save them. If these gun-toting protestors are that concerned about their income, I’m sure there are plenty of grocery stores who would hire them. If they truly do not fear the virus, they could do some good during this time, rather than gathering in large groups to spread the infection.

But I digress. I found a four-leaf clover so everything will be alright. Won’t it? This is my sign that all is well—my luck is changing. Right! I’m so very lucky(she said with a hint of sarcasm)—compared to what, though?

Some days as I sit on my deck inhaling the scent of my newly mowed lawn (that only I will see), I feel the familiar anticipation of summer. Will barbecues soon be sending their smoky perfume my way? And, will I be able to crash the neighbor’s party for the ribs and burgers or at least a glass of wine? Or will we still be isolated, watching each other from the other side of the street? Soon we will see just how lucky this four-leaf clover really is.

Sadly, I don’t think that piece of clover will change the trajectory of our journey back to the health of our planet. We will get through this in the same amount of time with or without it but, for me, it is a symbol of hope. I do feel lucky. All of my friends and family are isolated and although I can’t hug them, I know they are okay. We will all be together again soon—I’m just not sure what “soon” looks like. Nor, am I sure what the world will look like but somehow I think it will be a better place when the virus leaves and we are left with the kindness and love we found in isolation.

So, today I’m sending the luck of my four-leaf clover to everyone out there along with the love we all need to get through this.

Plenty of Fish in the Sea

Mom always told me there were plenty of fish in the sea. What she didn’t tell me is that I might have to go to an online dating site to find my own special fish. But, do I? Is this the only way to meet people these days?

Plenty of Fish in the Sea

Over the past ten years, I’ve joined a few dating sites. It’s hard to meet people sitting in your living room. It’s only slightly more likely to meet someone at a sporting event, golf course, book club or bar, so I figured the online thing was worth a try. To be honest, it hasn’t been all bad. I’ve made a few life-long friends, connected with old friends I spotted on these sites and enjoyed pleasant (and sometimes not so pleasant) conversations with men I knew I would never see again. And, I won’t forget the ones who held my heart in their hands for moment, just long enough to let me know love just might be possible. So, this experience hasn’t been a waste of time, but right now there are far more important things on my mind, so I’m done with online dating. I QUIT!

Meeting someone from a dating site right now is like competing for a Darwin Award*. You know, the award they give to people who die as a result of their own actions for doing something stupid! Sure, it cleans up the gene pool but only if we get these dumbasses to die before reproducing. Dating a complete stranger at the height of a pandemic is one of those less-than-intelligent actions, especially if you’re over sixty.

Only a week ago I received a message from someone who wanted to meet me in person. When I said that wasn’t a good idea right now, he said, “Why?” Obviously, he doesn’t live in the same universe as the rest of us. He’s still looking for love (or something like that) in the midst of a pandemic and, sadly, some equally oblivious woman will probably accommodate him. With people like them we will never see the end of this virus-induced nightmare. Perhaps they will eliminate themselves from the gene pool with their dating practices, but probably not before they cough on one or more of us.

So, I’m staying home, writing about my pathetic life and, honestly, enjoying the solitude—most days. Then there are days when I desperately miss my son, my friends and family, my golf outings, my writing group, my casino trips, eating at restaurants and oh so much more.

But, one thing I don’t miss is dating stupid, Darwin Award-seeking men. I’ll keep in touch with my intelligent male friends, ones I met before the world changed. I hope to golf and drink and laugh with these guys, all of whom understand the word quarantine, once this is over. And, I will rejoice in outings with my female friends, too. We, truly, are all in this together.

If I’ve learned anything from this (and, I think I have), I’ve gained an understanding of the power of friendship. I’m sticking to the friends I know and love. You know who you are…

See you on the other side of the curve.


My Girl

So tired

Sitting on my couch, isolated from friends and family, I am thankful for the little girl curled up on my lap as I write these words. I know we’re all in the same boat as we navigate these uncharted waters but having a lifeline in this new world of social distancing makes the voyage a little smoother.

My dog, Hanni, is my lifeline. Not that I don’t talk to or text friends and family every day—I do—but having a warm cuddly pup sharing my space helps me through these crazy days. I could go on about the state of the world and the virus that has consumed us, but I’ll save that for another day (and hope by the time I get around to writing about it, it will be a thing of the past). Today is Hanni’s day.

New Face of Diabetes

My girl is almost fourteen years old and is, as my son posted recently, the new face of diabetes. Insulin morning and night doesn’t seem to faze her as she takes her injections like a trouper but, what does seem to faze her is a life no longer as she once knew it. Or, maybe it’s me. She may be adjusting to her dwindling eyesight, lack of energy and her inability to chase the ball down the hallway just fine. It seems I’m the one having trouble adapting to our new reality.

When the sun comes out, I see a glimmer of the younger, healthier Hanni and can’t wait to get her out for a walk. There was a day when she would howl the moment she saw the leash, hoping for a long walk through the grass—so fragrantly marked by the dogs that walked before her. Those days are gone. Halfway down the driveway, she is already begging for a return to her cozy spot on the couch next to me. Is it because she can no longer see the critters in our path? Or, is she just tired?

My girl is wearing down—maybe she’s ready to move on—but for now she’s hanging in there. I think she knows I need her in this time of isolation. We have a pretty good thing going. I’ll keep taking care of her with cuddles, love and insulin…and she’ll keep taking care of me by laying her sweet head on my lap.

Bark at the Park 2019