The Art Museum

Mostly True Memoirs

The art museum

I visited the art museum the other day.

I played tourist.

There is a Monet exhibit that I wanted to see.

Bob refused to come with me.

Apparently I have tried his last nerve.

He’s done being dragged to cultural events.

Big sigh…

I pointed out that if I was his date rather than his wife, he would eagerly accompany me to the museum.

He laughed and laughed and laughed.

This, I informed him, is why boyfriends are better than husbands.

It is also why sisters are better than husbands.

However, I don’t have any sisters nearby.

I took myself to the art museum alone.

And I had a surprisingly wonderful time.

No one bugged me.

No one urged me to hurry up.

No one complained that they were hungry.

I could take as long as I wanted.

But don’t tell Bob that I enjoyed myself.

He feels kind of bad that he ditched me.

I’m gonna milk it.


The Kid is a Genius

Mostly True Memoirs

The kid is a genius

The kid is a genius.

He went on vacation.

He’s not old enough to rent a car.

So he rented a U-Haul.

U-Haul has a lower age standard than the car rental agencies.

He sent me some pictures.

OMG – I can’t stop laughing.

The kid is a genius.

Or a moron.

Or maybe a little of both…


Plan B, Just In Case

Mostly True Memoirs

Plan B, just in case

It’s always good to have a Plan B.

We were ready to grill our Memorial Day steaks.

But our plans were brought to a screeching halt.

There was a wasp nest in the grill.

Plan B.

We pan-fried our steaks indoors.

Stupid wasps.

Family Lifestyle

An Amazing Rest Stop

Mostly True Memoirs

An amazing rest stop


The other day, we finally visited the Buc-ee’s rest stop.

We’ve been in Texas a year, and we had yet to visit this place.

The word is it’s an amazing rest stop.

We happily discovered that it IS an amazing place.

The gifts!

The candy!

The beef jerky!

We had just eaten, and Bob was disappointed.

He would have liked to have eaten dinner here.

I promised I would bring him back for Father’s Day.

And then I immediately regretted that offer.

My birthday falls on Father’s Day.

I don’t want to have my birthday dinner at a rest stop.

Apparently I have already made the commitment…


And Now We Wait

Mostly True Memoirs

And now we wait

And now we wait.

We were expecting a monster hailstorm.

Bob tried to put both cars in the garage.

We have a tiny garage.

With the motorcycle, a huge tool bench and the lawn mowing equipment, we don’t have room to park the cars inside.

Bob played Tetris and managed to get both cars in.

However, it was jammed so tight that he couldn’t open the door to get out of the car.

I had to open the hatch on the Expedition so he could escape.

But there was no room for the motorcycle.

I suggested that he wheel it inside the house.

We have a large entryway.

There’s room.

Besides, he once put his gas tank in the dryer.

He also cooked some engine parts in the oven and scorched my butcher block afterward.

So why not crack some tiles in the entryway?

It would match the motorcycle-distressed décor of the rest of the house.

However, our very kind neighbor offered up a bit of space in his garage.

Our entryway has been spared.

This time.

And now we wait.


Moving Day For The Grown Son

Mostly True Memoirs

Moving Day for the Grown Son


It was moving day for the Grown Son.

His old apartment was a run-down, crime-ridden tenement building.

In fact, while we were packing him up, the cops came several times.

Not for us, but still.

His new place is in a much nicer building.

And a much nicer neighborhood.

The new roommate is one of his best friends from high school.

He is neat, and The Grown Son is a slob.

Hopefully the kid will be a good influence on our little pig-dog.

I would hate to think that our little pig-dog might be a bad influence on the roommate.

Only time will tell…


How To Get Out Of Chores. Don’t Tell Bob That It Was Easy.

Mostly True Memoirs

Don't tell Bob

How to get out of chores. Don’t tell Bob that it was easy.

I’m so nice.

Let me tell you all about it.

Bob mowed the lawn for the first time this spring.

The first mow is a huge job because the grass is so thick.

He sunk down into the couch in exhaustion, and then he said,

“Oh I forgot, it’s trash night.”

Because I’m so nice, I said, “Don’t get up, I’ll do it.” 

And then I instantly regretted my offer.

Because it was already dark.

There might be spiders.

Or a possum.

Or maybe even a cow.

Bob rolled his eyes and said, “Never mind, I’ll do it.”

But I insisted.

I am not a coward.

Well, I am, but still…

I braved the dark suburban wilds to haul the cans to the curb.

Bob told me not to worry.

I am small.

If anything should happen, he could easily fit me into one of the trash bins.

I was not reassured.

Not one bit.

The entire trash-can-hauling-in-the-dark incident turned out to be completely uneventful.

But don’t tell Bob.

He might expect me to do it again.


Arctic Blast

Mostly True Memoirs

Arctic Blast

We had heard that we were going to be hit by an arctic blast.

They weren’t kidding.

Nathan had come home for the weekend.

He got up at the crack of dawn to head back this morning.

At 6:00 am, while we were loading him up in the car, it was .

It was so cold that it hurt!

For the first time ever, I did not linger over our goodbyes.

I did not stand at the curb waving until he turned the corner.

I said, “Bye, I love you.”

And hurried back into the house to get out of the Arctic blast.

I need hot coffee.

Lots and lots of hot coffee.

Diabetes Dog Family Lifestyle Toastmasters Work

I’m Starting a Blog

Mostly True Memoirs

I'm starting a blog

I’m starting a blog.

Facebook is easy.

We’re already friends.

I don’t have to explain myself.

I write my goofy stories.

And everyone knows what I’m talking about.

I don’t have to explain a thing.

Blogging is different.

People don’t know me.

I have to explain.

But explaining ruins the rhythm of the story.

It’s kind of like explaining a joke.

If you have to explain it, it’s not funny.

So I will write this first post to introduce myself.

After that, I’ll just write.

I am a mom and an empty nester.

I have two grown sons.

Both of my children are diabetic.

Diabetes is a nightmare.

But it is also our completely new-normal status.

I have a wonderful husband.

Who fixes things around the house and generally makes himself useful.

And is occasionally the subject of some hilarious stories.

I have a dog.

She is lazy but very cute and cuddly.

I often remind my family that the dog is my favorite child.

I teach English as a Second Language to adults, on line, around the world.

I am a Toastmaster.

A Distinguished Toastmaster.

Being a Toastmaster has definitely made me a better English teacher.

And a better script reader which is my second gig.

I love to write.

I’ve been reading and writing as long as I can remember.

My favorite toys, when I was a kid, were my books, a spiral notebook and a pencil.

A pencil, not a pen.

I’ve always preferred a pencil.

I was born and raised in Southern California.

We recently moved halfway across the country to Texas.

This move was not nearly as traumatic as I anticipated.

I have made lots of new friends in Texas.

I am keeping touch with my old friends through social media.

I plan on making lots of new friends through blogging.

Why am I starting this blog?

Because I’m tired of Facebook.

I’m tired of all of the ads.

I’m tired of all of the political wrangling.

I’m tired of the algorhythms that may or may not be connecting me with the people I want to be connected with.

I want to control my own platform.

I want to control my own intellectual property.

Although I use the term “intellectual” loosely.

Why do I write?

Because, to quote someone whose name I can’t recall, but I don’t want to be accused of plagiarism, “I write because I can’t not write.”