Like all good seventy’s kids, scouting was a big part of my early days. An afternoon spent fashioning “sit upons”…
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grief
Learning To Fly . . .
It was spring of 2012. The thick aroma of crawfish bread, gumbo, and po-boys cut through an even thicker shroud…
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Grief School: Lesson #2 – It’s a Thing
It was just a fourteen-year-old Jeep. Yet, when it sold last week, you would have thought I was selling a…
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Connecting the Dots . . .
As a kid (and even beyond), I was am a sucker for puzzles. Crosswords. Word jumbles. Word searches. Sudoku. I couldn’t…
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Motherhood is a Dirty Business
Except for the first Mother’s Day after each girl was born, I’ve tended to write Mother’s Day off as “greeting…
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A Lesson on Grief from a Who Dat
The Who Dat Nation (a/k/a New Orleans Saints’ fans) are in a deep state of grief over the murder of…
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