Lucky us, living in a small town. The joys of small-town life are many, but one of the best is…
This column took me forever to write. I can feel your surprise; after all, it’s pretty short and I’m not…
It’s Friday night, just past the dinner hour. Six of us are huddled around a slightly sticky table, our heads…
Just the other day, a friend called me “Granny.” I was taken aback. Although the recent birth of my first…
Just the other day, a friend called me “Granny.” I was taken aback. Although the recent birth of my first…
Whatever the reason for his missing head, Jiminy Cricket sits in the Wolfle children’s garden like a cartoon victim of the French Reign of Terror. Welcome to Edgar Allan Poe Elementary, he seems to say.
On Nov. 11, Kingston lost a little piece of itself with the passing of native daughter Lucille Weisenberger. If you grew up in the north end of Kitsap County in the 1940s through the early 1970s, chances are you knew her, though for many of us she was simply Mrs. Weisenberger.
Edmonds is dead to me. Seattle is the far side of the moon. My world now runs from Hood Canal to Agate Pass and Hansville to the Tacoma Narrows. Ferries and bridges? No thank you. God bless you, Kitsap Peninsula … I’m clicking my little red shoes together and staying home.
They say Mozart composed his first symphony at age 8. Not bad, but ask him for the proper siting of Fritillaria meleagris and he was hopeless.
So I’m writing a book. In theory, at least. In actual fact what I’m doing is anything and everything but sit down and write
All I want is to adjust my thermostat. I don’t want to launch a space shuttle…
It was a dream job. The kind that alternately charms and challenges, but in the end makes you eager to grab your coffee mug and get in the car each morning.
It’s spring and the plants are calling. “Wennndy…,” they say, “come buy us. Look how fresh and fluffy we are. Look how pretty. We died on you last time, but this year it will be different.
I don’t believe in angels. Really, I don’t. Sometimes, it’s hard to believe in much of anything. But there I was in the cups and glasses aisle of Goodwill, and I may have met one — an angel, that is.
Welcome to my garden. Open the gate and step in, but mind the brambles and thorns.
Question: In these tough economic times, Kitsap County’s top priority is encouraging local small business, right? Answer: The jury’s still out.
Do you like to win? Do you crave games of chance but, like me, are way too cheap to drop bundles of money at a casino? Do you yearn to hang with Kingston’s glitterati?
Know what I hate about weeds? They live and grow and make it look easy.
Do you, Mr. or Ms. Mature Reader, find yourself staring into the face of a new year craving new challenges? Do you miss the smell of textbooks and the trauma of finals week? Would you welcome the opportunity to meet new people and feel like a fossil?
Do you ever wonder about Andy Rooney? Miss Snippy does. Mostly, Miss Snippy wonders how she can get his old job.
Adrenaline boosts such as this are just one reason why I love to take walks. I may claim it’s for exercise, but, really, I wouldn’t do it if it didn’t feed my soul. That sounds very corny, but sometimes the truth comes on a cob.
It’s time you knew the awful truth. Tippy’s not coming home. Neither are Snowball, Muffin, nor Pumpkin. Every year the sad little fliers go up on telephone poles all along my road: “Missing, cat/small dog, reward, please call.” The plea is invariably accompanied by a photo of a fluffy friend guaranteed to make my species revert to baby talk. Every year, it breaks my heart.
I’m a sucker for a cookie. Chocolate chip, lemon, oatmeal or molasses; they’re all good. Make it a free cookie…
