I have always loved snow. As a kid, I loved the arbitrariness of snowfall: going to bed at night, my head packed with the images and emotions of the day, and then, waking, to the white of transformation. Everything gone. The clean slate. Everything new. The opportunity to start again.
Author: Jaci Stephen
Does anyone who doesn’t like sleeping in a tent and talking b*****ks when high, care that Coachella has been canceled again?
Should you find yourself in the unlikely position of not having enough time to watch the movies everyone is talking about, here’s a summary of just a few.
Decided not to have a dog because I could well be 79 when it dies, if it lives as long as our others did. Heck, it could end up having to organize my funeral.
This was not the body that lifted me up to Georgie in his budgerigar’s cage, saying “Night, night, Georgie;” nor the hands that held my clammy forehead over the toilet bowl when I was sick. Dad was slipping away to a place he had not yet been, and I was helpless to pull him back.
Twitter banning Donald Trump has done wonders for my mental and emotional health.
Sex is difficult enough to negotiate, both emotionally and physically (not to mention the post-coital laundry), without having to bring sums into the equation.
What is it about a global pandemic that brings out the love of murder in people?
It’s called Hold Fast to the Arts and asks people to support the performing arts by sponsoring an eligible individual’s dining experience at the restaurant.
Having bought it for such a ridiculous price and also feeling it held a certain sentimental value, I could not bear to part with it. Renting a second little home for us both seemed, strangely, like the more cost-effective option.