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  •   In the spirit of our ancestors, taking the next step
    4/18/2020 Like millions of others, for the past month, I’ve been working from home. I miss my coworkers, and our downtown office more than I can articulate, but I’m ever-so-grateful to have a job in these uncertain times.
    Unfortunately, my fella’s business has been severely waylaid by the quarantine. But on the upside, for me anyway, with his free time he is doing things like frothing cream and bringing lattes to my desk, providing Oreos for my Zoom meetings, and for dinner, he has been cooking the comfort foods of his childhood.
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  • “If it weren’t for bad luck”
    3/21/2020 For your reading pleasure, the first page of my COVID-19 journal-
    Quarantine Day One: Twelve-year-old Hudson Charles was up bright and early, playing video games, and helping sort out my work-from-home technical issues. He produced the proper cable from god-knows-where, and helped rearrange furniture so that I could move my desk and plug into the router.
    He also noted that the people who are saying the world is coming to an end, are the same people who say God promised to never flood the earth again.
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  • Conquering the world, one small habit at a time
    3/14/2020 I’m trying to start a morning routine. Believe it or not, there’s an app for that!
    It seems everyone in the world who accomplishes goals, starts their day with purpose. Steve Jobs, Anna Wintour, Attila the Hun.
    Ok, I don’t know for sure about Attila, but I assume his conquering and pillaging started at a reasonable hour each day.
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  • An attitude of gratitude and counting your blessings
    3/7/2020 Gratitude is a practice, and it takes exactly that...practice.
    Sometimes, it is easier for me to instruct others to practice gratitude than it is to do it myself. For example, last evening one of my kids, Brillo pad in hand, was grumbling about washing the pots and pans.
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  • “Got Milk?” a ritual for communication and transition
    2/22/2020 This week, I received the much anticipated announcement that, once again, I was “not selected” as the winner of the Erma Bombeck Writing Competition. I don’t feel too badly because every year that I lose (and it has been many, many years) it is to some of the finest writers and humorists I have the pleasure of reading.
    Also, I am secretly happy when the announcement is made, and my essay is free to publish elsewhere. It makes for an easy week as a newspaper columnist.
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  • Stories of motherhood and of courage
    2/15/2020 “Do you have a story you can share about motherhood,” she asked. I almost laughed. Do I have stories? I’ve been a mother for nearly twenty-eight-years. I’ve mothered five children, a menagerie of pets, and an ex-husband. I’ve got stories.
    Like that time I walked into the kitchen, and my eight-year-old son was dangling a snake across the breakfast table to show his sisters.
    Me (as calmly as possible): “Son, please take the snake outside.”
    Son: “Why?”
    Me: “Because it’s a snake. In the house.”
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  • Better to have loved and lost at a bridge full of memories
    2/8/2020 Sometimes, when I am out and about, I realize that I am not quite ready to go home. I need to find some stillness within myself before jumping back into the midst of the household.
    My vehicle has always been my safe place to think, feel, and just generally let my heart and mind wander in whatever direction they feel compelled.
    This morning, after dropping the kids at school, I realized today was one of those “need to get to the bottom of this emotion” sort of days. I wasn’t entirely sure what the emotion was, but I knew with enough driving, I would figure it out. So, I aimlessly drove through town and along back roads while I pondered.
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  • If we grieved for all of them, we could never live
    2/1/2020 I was nine when Candy died. She was the first person I knew with a terminal illness. In my child’s mind, it seemed like she lived for a very long time after her diagnosis, but in reality, she was taken within a few short months.
    My mom met her through the Temple Wives Association. We had moved to Tennessee a few months prior, so my dad could pursue ministerial studies at Temple College. My young, twenty-eight-year-old mother joined TWA in an attempt to make friends.
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  • Looks like Ginger’s going to make it after all
    1/17/2020 Tuesday morning I will be starting the next leg of my life’s journey. A new job in downtown Indianapolis! For years, I have dreamed of working downtown, probably due to the influences of Marlo Thomas and Mary Tyler Moore.
    As a little girl, living in Pittsboro, Indiana (population 867), I was enthralled with the television shows depicting single women leaving small towns to make their way in the big city.
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  • Making the most of my unplanned vacation
    1/11/2020 It was a typical Friday the 13th. My favorite bracelet broke in three places, a bank glitch prevented me from accessing money, I got pulled over by a cop, my coffee order was wrong, and then I got fired.
    I managed to stay fairly calm during the unexpected, and wholly unwarranted firing process, but once I left the office, all bets were off. I asked my fella to meet at a local pub, and over beers, and through my tears, I poured it all out.
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