Funny, but the post you are about to read is nothing like the first draft I wrote on this incident. In fact, it is the polar opposite of what I intended. Guess it really depends on which side of the glass you look through.
Let me explain
All in Family
Funny, but the post you are about to read is nothing like the first draft I wrote on this incident. In fact, it is the polar opposite of what I intended. Guess it really depends on which side of the glass you look through.
Let me explain
I am by no means a hoarder, but if I were to die tomorrow, there is a lot of stuff that my kids will have to deal with (i.e. throw away).
I loved getting together with family, seeing my Grandmother, my Aunts and Uncles and especially my cousins, but when it came to the food, I was terrible. I was an adopted loaf of white bread in a family of exquisite pastries.
It was not mine, but it may have been my son Danny’s first concert.
Although, after what we saw that night, I’m surprised he ever went back to see another.
You never know who you are going to run into on any given day (or night), or how that run in will turn out.
It is Monday night, and I am sitting here in New Jersey waiting for Hurricane Sandy to reach landfall.
It was a dark and stormy night.
Actually, it was a beautiful sunny Monday afternoon when my brother, my sister, and myself dug a grave.
I am amazed that siblings growing up in the same house could be so different from one another. My daughter, Amanda, my sons, Alexander and Danny, may share a common genetic code, but that’s about it. You can tell they are related but I knew watching them grow up, they weren’t the same.
My youngest son is a really good cook.
He must get that from his mother because the last thing I want (nor can) do is cook.
In the early part of my online dating experience, when I was not quite a novice, but yet to achieve a Master's Degree in the art of finding love on the Internet, I met ChampagneLady58.
We landed in Dallas almost an hour late, but still needed to make our connecting flight to Oklahoma City.
Re-Post from an earlier blog:
When I first was separated from my ex-wife, Arlene, my three kids were all under 10 years old. When Christmas came around that year I knew it was going to be hard — maybe not so much for the kids, but for me (selfish).