Sometimes it breaks my heart a little to delete numbers because there is a human being behind them.
Tag: <span>friendship</span>
Daily writing prompt
If you had the power to change one law, what would it be and why?
I spent the summer of 1991 in Yugoslavia, a country that no longer exists. As always I got paid to travel and had all extra expenses reimbursed, which is fair enough because you still pay all your monthly bills at home.
Last week, I teared up when a comment left on my Finally-2024 post surprised me. Lately, I have been wondering if I should continue blogging. Is it worth it, and what have I accomplished with it?
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Friday in the morning a friend of ours died unexpectedly. He had a heart attack in his car on his way to work, nobody else was injured or harmed. The vehicle just stopped, when his heart stopped as well.
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A large group of American students waited at the airport to welcome the 23 German exchange students, who soon would arrive to would stay with them and their families for three weeks.
It seems the universe will never stop interfering with my plans, and life itself doesn’t seem to take me and my goals too seriously either. My well-meant intent to use the new year for 12 months of change and purpose has now somehow become more of a monthly reminder of how many of my plans, dreams, and goals I never achieve, due to interruptions I didn’t plan on.
My husband’s second paycheck, still under a thousand dollars for two full weeks of work, was celebrated the same way as the first one. We drove to the bank together, cashed the check, and back at home, we got the hidden cash out of the kitchen drawer. We called our landlord, asked him if he wanted to pick up the rent, and an hour later he parked in our driveway.
How can 20 harmless-looking pills have such an impact? How do they manage to put so much power into something so small? Listening to my body is not an easy task.
The second most important paycheck in my life was the one my husband brought home two weeks after we had moved to Memphis. Seven and a half months after we had lost our home and almost everything in it, we looked at the check and acted like children.
“Someone is going to die,” he said and when I followed his gaze, I saw a crow had landed in the tree right in front of his office window. Only one bird. It sat still, looked in our direction, almost like it was watching us through the glass. It was the time of the year when the trees were leafless beauties, nothing blogged our view.