Imagine . . . . Imagine someone you care about extending her hand toward you. In her hand she holds a small, robin’s egg blue box wrapped with a white ribbon. “Here,” she says, “it’s for you.” What feelings would that beautiful little blue box evoke? Anticipation? Excitement? Gratitude? Curiosity? For
On a visit last month to the Northwest Montana Fair in Kalispell, I stood in the horse barn watching a teenage girl attempt to pull her mare into a stall. With sweat forming across her forehead and her feet sliding across the straw-covered boards of the barn, she pulled hard
I have a new next-door neighbor. And she’s really rude. Well, actually I haven’t met her yet. But that’s what my mail carrier said. She told me, “I met your new neighbor. She is really rude.” That was the conclusion my mail carrier came to following a “discussion” with my neighbor
“Please excuse any grammatical errors, sent from my mobile device.” This is from an actual email message that I received and yes, the message contained within it a grammatical error. It virtually becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: I will be making errors, so please look the other way; it’s something else’s
Last week, Maya Angelou passed away. As when a majestic sequoia dies, her passing came as a shock. Some things, some people, we expect, will never die. And the news of her passing took my breath away. Sharing the news of her passing, her family posted this statement on her website:
“My cats shredded your couch. You are correct.” This is the phrase that converted my husband’s lack of appreciation for cats into a wholesale intolerance of anything remotely feline. It was uttered by his then roommate, a woman with two cats to whom he very reluctantly rented one of the
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