During my father’s first military assignment in Crete, Greece, we lived in Hersonissos, a large village by a harbor. I was a pre-teen then, but I do remember its beauty and its kind people. I also remember my mother gathering with the village women each evening in a circle of chairs outside on the patio of one of their homes. For hours, they would sit, talk and crochet. My mother taught herself to crochet intricate doilies, both large and small, by watching the women. She made gorgeous pieces for me and my sister as well as our children. I still have these pieces today and plan to pass them on to my sons and their families in the future. Each one is a unique piece of art that takes on such a special meaning because they were created by the hands of my mother. Continue reading “A Long Denim Jacket and A Walk Down Memory Lane”
Whenever someone tells me that I look younger than my 48 years, I chuckle, thank them and move along my merry way. I chalk it up to them being overly polite because I see firsthand my wrinkles, gray roots and “face jowls” every day! Still, I am very appreciative of this compliment and must admit that hearing it does make me feel young too.
Until this week, that is. I went for a run yesterday with my dog and when I got home I found that I had my pants on backwards! I didn’t even notice it during my run. Then I proceeded to put hair frizz cream all over my face. I thought it was moisturizer. But that wasn’t all. I had to pick up one of our cars from the auto shop after an oil change. As I was making my way out the door, the cashier said to me, “Thank you, sir.” Continue reading “Fall Layers With A Denim Vest”
When I was in college, I worked part-time at a newspaper to help pay for my tuition and books but to also gain experience; I was planning to be a journalist when I graduated. One evening, my co-worker (who was also a college student) and I were manning the phones when Marjorie walked by, wished us goodnight and then left the building. Marjorie was my boss’s boss, and many of us college kids were in awe of her. With her tailored suits, sleek heels and chic, short haircut, she looked as if she could have stepped out of the pages of a fashion magazine. She was the definition of sophistication and elegance. We all wanted to be like Marjorie.
I remember my friend sighing as she walked by that evening. Then she said, “When I get a real job, I’ll have a closet just like hers, and all of my clothes will have to be dry cleaned.”