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We sat on the beach on a perfect late summer day. In front of us, a group of youngsters had dug a gigantic hole—an absolute crater in the sand complete with steps leading down into it. One of the boys served as foreman, ordering other kids around, suggesting slight modifications to reinforce the structure. He informed everyone the lifeguard told him to expect high tide around 3 PM so time was of the essence. Eventually, two other little girls showed up with their mother, shyl

Photo credit - Beth Hager Tomorrow night will be our last Monday night driving to Hershey to rehearse under the direction of Linda Tedford. For ten years, my husband and I have spent two and half hours every Monday night from September to May singing with the Susquehanna Chorale. We’d both sung for years in various church and community choirs. We actually met each other through choral singing. But we reached a point in 2016 when we thought it was time to take a chance on audi

It has been a stay-at-home summer, and that’s ok. Each of the last four years my husband and I have enjoyed wonderful trips to new destinations—a choir tour to Ireland in 2022 and most recently, visits to different parts of the American West in week-long increments. But this year is different because we are caring for a blind, diabetic dog, and we’re simply not comfortable leaving her. I know there are those who would say, “Put her down, already, and get on with your life.”

For the last month, I’ve been getting up between 5 and 6 am to feed Stella. I pull on a robe, fumble my feet into slippers and toddle down the steps, using my phone to light the way. Sometimes I prepare her food first and then go back upstairs to wake her up. The first week or so, she was reluctant, looking at me as if to say, “What is wrong with you? It’s not time to get up yet.” Now, she’s gradually adjusting to this new schedule, going outside for a quick pee and then comi

I often pick up one of those regional “style” magazines when we’re at the beach. They’re giveaways filled with splashy advertising along with a few articles of local interest and often include pages showing new or recently renovated multi-million dollar mansions nestled in secluded bayside coves or overlooking stunning ocean vistas. One of the houses in this month’s issue featured something called a “cocktail pool” which is a shallow swimming pool with a built-in table and ch

This week I got my annual mammogram which happened to fall, coincidentally, on the 46 th anniversary of my mother’s death from the disease at age 58. My results were normal, thanks be to God, but I couldn’t help but think of her and how the world of healthcare has changed since she was diagnosed. I am proactive about my health and keep up with appointments, vaccines, and testing, but damn, mammograms make me so anxious. Because of my history, I have had my share of call-back

Photo by Jorge Fernandez Salas on Unsplash I’ve attended beautiful funerals in the last month honoring the lives of two special women who were not only good and faithful servants, but moms to everyone who came into their orbit. They were salt of the earth, do-anything-for-you kinds of people. The first was my godmother, the mother of one of my closest childhood friends and a long-time school nurse, and the other, someone I came to know in the last 30 years. In both cases, th

Our neighbors and their families joined us last weekend for an informal, taco night Christmas gathering. I believe a great time was had by all. The kids banged on the piano and one crawled into the dog’s bed to curl up with Stella and there were impromptu trombone duets and noise and board games at the dining room table and conversations about college planning with the high school senior. I suspect the Moms and Dads put the fear of God into the kids about going to the one hou

Columbia High School Class of 1975 This past weekend, I attended my 50 th high school reunion. Granted, that’s a somewhat sobering milestone and yet it felt flat-out wonderful to reconnect with old friends. Lots of conversations started with “Do you remember the time we…” or “I’ll never forget when this happened …” and it felt so damn good to be with the people who knew us at that magical time in our lives when we were young and idiotic and filled with dreams. Our class g

Photo by Jared Wood on Unsplash Leaving places is hard. I’m not talking about moving to a new town or retiring from a job but leaving...

My husband and I just returned from a ten-day trip to California. From wine-tastings at vineyards owned by generations of the same family...

Every week, Linda maneuvered herself in the door from the garage carrying mops and a gray plastic bucket filled with cleaning supplies,...

This morning, my husband and I handed packages of food to individuals who lived in trailers, in a dank room in a seedy hotel, in a lovely...

One of the sopranos adjusts the white tie and collar of the 90-year-old bass who still sings with great joy and skill. After the concert,...

We planted the garden this week, and it feels like starting off a new school year. Everyone is sitting politely in neat little rows, and...