Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, the holiest of Christian holidays, even for recovering Catholics like me. The 40 days of Lent leading up to it have been embedded in my brain since childhood. My mother made sure we remembered Jesus’ sacrifice and love for all people, and, of course, the Resurrection. We always fasted on Ash Wednesday and Good Friday. During Lent, we didn’t eat meat on Fridays and “gave up” something important to us. A sacrifice that would be difficult and make us a better person. Like not cursing. I failed miserably. The shape of things to come, perhaps. A religious scholar I am not. But if you’re talking about…
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Free lunch
SOMEWHERE ON I-75 NORTH: Last week, we drove 1,250 miles over two-and-a-half days for a sandwich near Findlay, Ohio. It was worth all of the Interstate 95 Florida backups, every ounce of West Virginia’s pea soup fog on 77 west and even those @#$! Michigan pot holes along I-75. You see, despite what you may think, sometimes there is such a thing as a “free lunch.” Quite often when and where you least expect it. Just north of Findlay outside a village in Hancock County called Van Buren, we made a pit stop at a Pilot Travel Center. We hesitated for exactly two seconds because it was at the same exit as a…
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Jump
The trouble with being away from home for weeks at a time to escape Michigan’s winter is, well, Michigan’s winter. We returned earlier this week to find everything in order, except a dead Beast – our RV motorhome – parked outside since the end of January. The poor creature’s battery was kaput. Totally mea culpa, since I should have asked our home-checker/dear friend Kelly to start it weekly while we were gone. The plants survived, our basement was dry, but the RV was D-E-D. Aside: I must say, my Mustang Sal cranked right up this week even though she also hadn’t been started since before we left. But the pony was…
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Searchin’ for urchins
ANNA MARIA ISLAND, Florida – As a retired woman of a certain age, there’s not a whole lot that can get me up and out before 9 a.m. Keyword being “out.” An urgent veterinary appointment for our beloved Havanese, nature’s call and, of course, pickleball with my peeps. (Just not this year. I shall return.) On Tuesday morning, though, we had good reason to rise and shine early: strict orders from “Queen E,” our winter maven of shelling and shaming. Most folks around the pool here call her Eileen. “The early bird gets the sand dollars, girls, so haul your lazy butts over here to the beach by 8!” she said…
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Mimes, Minions and mothers
Another Saturday, another opportunity to either look on the bright side or retreat into my cozy hole of cynicism. Hard to say which one to choose on this rainy February day on the (usually) sunny gulf coast of Florida. Not that I’m complaining. We are, after all, not in Michigan. “I wish all of this sand was snow,” said nobody, ever. Anyway, the other night we watched “The Holdovers” movie streaming on Peacock. It stars Paul Giamatti playing a cantankerous instructor at a New England prep school who must remain on campus during Christmas break to babysit a handful of ragtag students with nowhere to go. He soon forms an…
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Hopeful hearts
The average price for a gallon of gas when the Detroit Lions last appeared in an NFC title game was $1.19. Just under $3 a gallon in Michigan, our boys in Honolulu Blue could have used some premium high octane against San Francisco before they ran out of steam after blowing a 17-point lead at the half last Sunday. The Lions came in as underdogs, but they sure didn’t play like it in the first half. Stagnant and stunned, the 49ers were behind 24-7 after two quarters. But like that old saying about the month of March, Detroit came in like lions and went out like lambs. From roaring beasts to gentle giants.…
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Rizz is the word
I love words. Big ones, little ones, made-up ones, silly ones. And I do love a clever portmanteau (spork!) and forever strive to omit needless words, thanks to the advice of my beloved style guys, Strunk and White. Words have been my meal ticket for as long as I can remember. So, when the Oxford English Dictionary names its word of the year for 2023, I pay attention. This year, however, I had no idea what the chosen word meant. In fact, I felt a little left out. Or, more to the point, simply out of it. Gen Z, I ain’t, but really, I’m not thaaat old, am I? Am I? OK, a generation or…
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Honolulu Blue, baby
In these parts, the expression “S.O.L” doesn’t always refer to your crappy state of luck and mean you’ve all but run out of it. This is Detroit, after all, the resilient Motor City and home to “cars, bars and a few weirdos,” as they used to say. No, when Detroit sports fans think of SOL, it has only one meaning, particularly during the NFL season: “Same old Lions.” And with good reason. Like back in 2008 when they went 0-16, a record then but later matched by the 2017 Cleveland Browns. (Sorry, Bonnie.) One thing’s certain. I have never written a positive blog post about the Detroit Lions. I even did a search…
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Merry ‘muted’ Christmas
It’s a cruel world, babe, as my wise father used to say. Indeed. Wonder what he would say about this recent newsflash: Christmas is canceled in Bethlehem. I am not making this up. It’s the honest-to-God awful truth in this incredibly messed up world of ours. There’s no Christmas in Bethlehem this year. For real. With war raging between Israel and Hamas in Gaza, all holiday bets are off. Too much grief and devastation to justify any sort of festivities, even in the Holy Land. Some have dubbed it a “muted” Christmas. Hold the merry. Last month, a teaser headline about the Christmas cancellation showed up in my NYT digital…
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Steel magnolias
Thank goodness my mother was a saver. And not just those ubiquitous plastic margarine tubs, Ziplock bags and, well, actual money — after all, this is the woman who shamelessly tucked envelopes of garage sale profits inside her favorite designer jackets. Her “mad money,” as she called it. Luckily, she told her three daughters about the secret stash of closet cash before she died. Even 15 years later since she passed on this day in 2008, Mom still manages to surprise me. As Daughter #3, I knew my mother had kept mementos of me: a lock of hair, old baby shoes and all of my K-12 report cards. Much to…
