Tea is by my side, cat climbed into my lap the second I opened the laptop, I’m listening to the peaceful sound of the rain, and I am utterly amazed at how light my mind feels. Seriously….it’s actually quiet in there. I can meditate without it being a constant struggle. I’m sleeping better, my mood

I woke up today in the best mood, totally energized and raring to go! Then I realized it was 3:30 in the morning and that if I wanted to keep up with the 6 year old all day I should probably cool my jets a bit longer. It’s day one of this crazy new experiment

My six year old hates change. Any talk of different haircuts or even home improvements  make him distinctly nervous.  I remember pitching an absolute fit about my dad growing a mustache when I was around that age; likely it’s developmentally appropriate.  But somewhere along the lines I left that trait in the dust.  I dig

Valentine’s Day seems an appropriate time to talk about how our connections to others, or our lack thereof, can affect our heart health.  And no… it doesn’t have to be a romantic connection.  You’ve undoubtedly heard the often touted wisdom that married people live longer, almost inevitably followed by the bad joke of “ or

I was 18 when my father had his first heart attack; he was trying to help a deer trapped on the ice. It was a big one (the heart attack, not the deer). He was told that he would never work again. He was 45 years old. Heart disease wasn’t new to my family; three

January is in the books and we move on to another month. It’s funny how in COVID Time, each turn of the calendar page feels like it brings a bit of relief and hope. February is Heart Health month, so they tell me.  A few months ago I was recruited to put together a weekly

In the weeks leading up to Christmas, my family got a double kick in the teeth with the death of my uncle, followed a few days later by my aunt –  same side of the family, different branch.  In the span of a week, my mother’s oldest sister had lost her husband as a result

It’s December 1st and I couldn’t be more relieved. I loathe November. I always have. The stark, damp, dreariness sinks into my bones and I just cannot shake it. Add this year’s political mayhem and another coronavirus surge and I’m just done in. Why does that simple flip of the calendar page make a difference?

One childhood memory that is tattooed into my brain is of a particular trip on my uncle’s boat. I couldn’t have been more than 8, possibly younger, and we got stuck out on the water in an unbelievably thick fog. We couldn’t see anything more than 3 feet away. Logically, I know that the adults

I love autumn. Our yard is a riot of color, the gardens have been put to bed, the garlic is in the ground, and, best of all, there are no more chickens in my house. To clarify, we aren’t the type of family that has diapered chickens wandering happily through our living room – not