I grew up in Greenfield, Ohio and graduated from the University of Dayton. My major was Spanish and I have taught in a bilingual school, middle school and many years at the high school level. I am now retired except for occasional subbing. I am married with two adults sons, daughter-in-law and grandson.
When my husband and I wed in 1971, we each brought a record collection to the marriage. Steve had actually minored in Music in college and boasted a far greater collection than I.
We didn’t have a stick of furniture between us, having both lived in furnished apartments before our marriage and spending our first year of wedded bliss in one, as well.
When we bought our first house, a small Cape Cod, we lugged the record collection into an empty living room and decided on our first furniture purchase. You guessed it, a stereo system. My husband didn’t want just any system, either. I was pretty much in shock when he carted in a Harman Kardon receiver and plopped two huge ESS speakers down into our thick shag. Continue reading The Record Collection→
I am a very communicative person by nature. I’m one of those people who truly enjoys striking up a conversation with a stranger, whether it be in a store, an elevator, or a dentist’s waiting room. Over the years I have gotten to know the maintenance staff at my school quite well and we’ve discussed everything from their grandkids to their culture and cuisine. I somehow feel better going about my day if I have spoken to someone new and have had some good times over the years commiserating with anxious people awaiting root canals. Conversation has a way of easing concerns and bringing a bit of levity to an otherwise nerve-wracking situation. Continue reading Texting Trumps Talking in 2012→
At the end of this month I will turn sixty-five and am now a card-carrying Medicare member. In fact, my billfold sports three new cards in their respective slots, a rather flimsy looking Part A and B card, a sturdy looking supplement, and a rather attractive prescription card. All three attest to the fact that I am now of a certain age. In my youth I remember thinking that people who were sixty-five had wiry white hair, stooped shoulders and were cane carrying folk. Yet my hair is dark and shiny, thanks to a hair stylist and a great formula, and I am still upright and energetic.
I have never been one who was coy about my age. I have not kept it a secret. Yet now that sixty-five is here I find a touch of vanity approaching. I am just a little over 5’1″. As a child in the 50’s I recall that when my parents wanted me placed in first grade when I was not yet 6, an administrator told my dad, “She’s too small.” My father, who scoffed at Continue reading Making It to Medicare→
Having been born in Cincinnati, Ohio, raised in Greenfield, and schooled in Dayton, I am, of course, a Midwesterner. During the course of our forty-year marriage, my husband and I have not strayed far. We’ve been Buckeyes, Badgers and now, Hoosiers. A few years ago I retired, but my husband, a business owner, still works twelve-hour days and often on Saturdays and Sundays. Those who know him assume that he will not enjoy retirement but, the truth be told, he is looking forward to it.
My husband has never been a complainer, but lately I have heard him muttering about the05 Indiana winters. Recently, he has been talking about becoming a Snowbird, once retired, and is mulling over the possibilities. Even though I find myself dreading the coming winter I cannot quite drum up enthusiasm for moving south, or west. My younger sister, from Columbus, Ohio, moved to Arizona in April and has frequently e-mailed me lauding the beauty of the mountain views she enjoys while having coffee on her deck. Her recent Facebook boast of how she is looking forward to not spending another winter in Columbus hurt just a bit. It’s true that a mountain view and the ocean’s waves certainly top the cornfields of Indiana, so why does the thought of leaving winter behind come with a hint of sadness?