Bruce Springsteen Said My Name

There I was truckin' along in my salty, dirty minivan with Sirius XM classic rock bustin' out my bass when Bruce Springsteen spoke to me. "Wendy let me in I wanna be your friend I want to guard your dreams and visions Just wrap your legs'round these velvet rims and strap your hands 'cross my engines..." The Boss was singin' to me people. Testify! I had no idea I was "Born to Run!" Yet here it was: "I wanna die with you Wendy on the street tonight In an everlasting kiss" Well, okay, Bruce but Sean might get jealous... "Together Wendy we can live with the sadness I'll love you with all the madness in my soul Oh-oh, someday girl I don't know when we're gonna get to that place Where we really wanna go and we'll walk in the sun But till then tramps like us baby we were born to run" Maybe you haven't heard Bruce, but I really don't like running, unless it's after a soccer ball, but even then I have my limits... Still, it's hard to say no to the Boss. Maybe I was born to walk really fast? Stroll along merrily? Okay, I'll run, but just 'til the next mailbox. After that serenade I started to think about my name, I encourage you all to do the same. There's Read more...

With Peaceful Intent…

~~~~~~By Heather Thomas Sinon, Guest Contributor    An Open Letter to Terrorists of all Sorts: You’ve made it so I have to stop watching the news. My soul hurts after hearing and seeing what you do. But, I want you to know that I get my kicks out of doing the opposite of everything you do. Does my love outweigh your hate? Probably not. I don’t have access to the 24/7 news cycle, as you unfortunately do. Even though you won’t see it, here’s a list of how I am defeating you. You like to bring down planes. I like to lift up people. You like to take people hostage. I like to take prisoners of hugs. You like to show horrible images. I like to show birds and bunnies and rainbows. You like to cause violent death. I like to ensure peaceful transitions. You like to bomb roads into oblivion. I like to let people merge on the highway. You like to cause homelessness. I like to adopt homeless pets. You like to spread viral threats. I like to spread viral love. You like to starve people. I like to feed them a little too much. You like to cause pain. I like to hold hands. You like to be a megaforce of evil. I like to be a megaforce of compassion. We could Read more...

Saturday Morning Happiness

By Wendy Pierman Mitzel ~~ Remember when Saturday mornings broke with the promise of a television full of cartoons to be watched from under a warm blanket in pajamas til noon? As an adult, I don't run out of bed for Looney Toons anymore, but this Saturday morning I felt a similar feeling of possibility. The sun is shining hard through my kitchen window, the coffee is made and there is nowhere to go just yet. So I have a few clear moments to simply look around, inside and outside of myself, and appreciate what brings peace and a smile to my face at any given moment. First, bunny tracks. Yup. It's been a beautiful few days of snow and each morning I peer out the window for fresh bunny tracks coming from under my shed and from the field behind it. It's like a map to their world, these fuzzy wuzzy bunnies who eat my raspberries in the summer and give my dog chase when he spots them. In the snow I can see where they come from and where they go. (Under my deck apparently.) It's like Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny are telling me a story. Second, yesterday I made a discovery at Starbucks: The Flat White. According to SBux it's: "A product of simplicity, crafted into artistry. An extra Read more...

When Love and Kindness Leave Lessons and Legacies

By Wendy Pierman Mitzel ~~~~   One afternoon, probably seven years ago, my neighbor saved the day with a glass of wine and a few moments of peace. I remember the day as a bit nuttier than usual. The four kids, 10 and under, were in the yard on scooters, bikes, swings and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. I was likely yelling or whining at said children and I’m pretty sure now that my neighbors, Frankie and Bill, were witness to it all. They were a beautiful pair. Elegant and classy at more than 80-years-old, the couple exuded confidence, grace and class. Frankie wore lovely earrings. Bill always dressed the role of a dapper gentlemen. That afternoon, sunny and warm, they strolled out of their house as if nothing was amiss and invited me for a glass of wine and some cheese on the back patio, beautiful bluestone with rock walls and blooming rhododendron. Fairly new to New England at that time, I assumed 4 o’clock wine was some sort of classy East Coast tradition. And while I learned that it was not out-of-the-ordinary for the pair to enjoy a glass and a toast together, I’m convinced that on that day they spotted a woman at her wits’ end and said to each other: “Oh Dear, Read more...

The Story of My Cousin’s Boobs

Special Guest Writer Julie Pierman ~ My journey started in 1998 when I found the first of 3 lumps in my right breast. I was 26 at the time. I remember being so afraid to call the doctor and ask if they wanted me to come in and have it examined. I had plans that day to go shopping with my sister and wanted to avoid this whole situation as long as I could. Obviously, the doctor's office wanted me to come in that day. I was hoping I could put it off for a few days, weeks, etc . . . I went in, they examined it and ordered a mammogram and an ultrasound. The mammogram and ultrasound did detect something but they were not sure exactly what it was, so onto the surgeon I went. I ended up needing surgery to remove it. This completely freaked me out! I was very fortunate that it ended up be a cluster of thick-walled cysts about the size of a dime. However, I ended up developing a hemotoma the size of my fist from the surgery, which resulted in another surgery about 6 weeks later to remove it. Life went on until 2009 when I found another lump in my right breast. I had tried to be very good at doing my self-exams, but in reality I did them about 3 or 4 times a year. Since this had Read more...

Wayward Whiskers and Untamed Eyebrows

  By Wendy Pierman Mitzel What is the protocol for alerting a fellow human to a hair in their honker? You know what I’m talking about, the hairs, like spider legs that creep out from within the nostril. Usually sported by older men, these hairy horrors are hard to miss. Or are they? Because apparently, they become invisible when seen in the mirror. How is this getting by the morning routine? Let’s see: brush teeth, wash face, shave, big hairy proboscis, brush hair, aftershave. Now, I’ve seen those on the drug store shelves the torture devices that probe and spin like a weed wacker up the schnoz and I imagine it’s not a soothing massage for the muzzle. But still, let’s get it over with and give it a trim already. Moving on... Let us not forget for the ear hair. Another grand joke played on those getting older. How do you bring that up in conversation? Start with a compliment? “Hi, wow, your nose hair is so nice and tidy but could I just point out that the hair in your ears is beginning to look like a homegrown set of ear muffs?” I believe the schnoz wacker is multi-functional and can be used gently and cautiously although Men’s Fitness suggests plucking - Read more...

Artie T & The People Who Love Him

There’s nothing better than a Feel Good Underdog/Good vs. Evil story this Labor Day holiday to put faith (and appreciation) back into the workplace. Since when does a high power CEO really care for the people responsible for the foundation of their pyramid? An individual who looks at its employees as people and not as unnamed, replaceable objects? Because of Market Basket’s CEO Artie T. Demoulas’s compassion for others, history was made. Arthur (Artie T.) T. Demoulas is the CEO of the family owned/operated New England based, Market Basket grocery store chain. According to the LA Times: “Artie T was fired in June by his cousin, Arthur S. Demoulas after he gained control of the board. Members of the board had accused Artie T. of ignoring them; he said they were greedy and wanted a big share of profits he said should go to employees. The two sides of the family have warred for years in and out of court; at one point there was even a fist fight between cousins.” Artie T. is the type of corporate leader who spends much of his time dealing with the day to day operations. He can be seen behind the counters, in the deli, in the warehouse. He knows many of his employees names, Read more...

Poop Drops

  I love walking my old, two-pooper lab.  Carrying it around for those long walks really stink.  How about a place to dump it?   If you live in a small New England town, with a sleepy Main Street lined with old houses and tree-lined sidewalks on both sides, you’re lucky enough to enjoy the simple luxury of accessibility. People from all over town, and even outside the downtown area, bring friends to stroll up and down these beautiful tree-lined paths. These friends may have two legs or four as main streets are perfectly suited for dog-walking. I have a Black Lab, Tuff. He’s a two-poop walker. It’s a proper form of etiquette to pick up after your pet. Yet, the humorously awkward portion of the walk, is having to carry Tuff’s dangling load for the remainder of the walk. I often witness others in the same predicament. I particularly find the most enjoyment watching the masculine types, walking tiny lap dogs...poop bag tied to the leash. That’s love! Yes, it is embarrassing, and not particularly hygiene free...especially if the four legged companion has experienced digestive issues. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we had random poop drops or trash receptacles up Read more...

The Power of the Page

  I’m not embarrassed.  I’ll be the first to admit it... I’ll take a year to finish a sleepy novel.  Granted, I usually have three to four books rotating on a regular basis, dog-eared-pages waiting in turn. I’ve always felt the need to be “reading something.”   Yet, on occasion, we come across a book that grabs us, handicaps us, makes us sit in the uncomfortable chair in the kitchen.  The kind of book where the dishes collect in the sink. Lunch is forgotten.  We stay in our stretchy pajamas, ignore our hair and don’t make the trip upstairs to brush our teeth.  The flower beds we plan to weed, remain overgrown.  The porch still needs to be swept, errands still need to be run. The kind of book that when neighbors pop over and gaze at our hobo-style appearance we say: “Yeah...I look like hell, but I’m reading a great book...can’t put it down.”   What’s wonderful about confessing to such indulgence is the understanding and appreciative nod as well as a sparked interest into what material would have such an affect as to forget to shower.   “Must be good...what book?” they inquire. And although it doesn’t happen very often, reading something Read more...

Closing the Door On The Closet 

By Cami Beiter ~~~~ What was that scrambled mess-of-a-quote George W. made some 12 years ago?  “Fool me once, shame on...shame on you.  Fool me...you can’t get fooled again.”  After the fourth time, you think I’d learn...or put my foot down. With each experience of selling my daughter’s gently used clothing to Plato’s Closet, (her wallet) and expectations were always short changed.  But like a love sick teenage girl, I kept thinking, maybe the next time will be better. According to their website, Plato’s Closet buys and sells the latest looks in brand name gently used clothing accessories for teen and twenty-something guys and girls. Re-selling clothing has become a hot trend. You need to be choosy in what you present to a consignment or resale shop.  For us, this is a familiar routine.  Peyton would clean out her closet of shorts, jeans, shirts, sweatshirts, shoes, boots and scarves...All items that either no longer fit or didn’t tickle her fancy.  She’d separate, wash, dry and fold the items, placing them in bags or large plastic bins.  When our schedules were free, and the planets were aligned just right, we’d venture off to Plato’s Closet.   I could Read more...
%d bloggers like this: