Passing (on) the Pie

  My first pie making experience was at my Third Grade Thanksgiving “Feast.”  It involved refrigerator dough and a can of pie filling, was served with “ants on a log” and trail mix, and was… Continue reading

Well, You Don’t Have to Cry About It . . . Or do you?

My family is a bunch of cry babies.  My husband sobbed watching “Stewart Little”  (the cartoon version) when Stewart ran away from home thinking his family was better off without him.   My son sniffled… Continue reading

Six Block Walk of Shame

  I always swear I am not a competitive person.  I even go so far as to say that I could win a medal for being the least competitive person.  Ever.   Which can really only… Continue reading

What Was Her Mother Thinking?

Growing up my sisters and I were not allowed to change our hairstyle.  My mom (like all good hippie moms) insisted our hair be long, straight, and parted down the middle.  In the… Continue reading


Halloween is just days away.  Of course if you have entered any retail stores lately; then you know that Halloween is actually over, Thanksgiving is 75% off, and Christmas could happen at any… Continue reading

Back Wax, Nair, and Hot Pink Hair

My husband is a hairy man with a long history of spa treatments gone wrong.  Once, some guy at the pool saw Jesus in his back hair, so he asked me to wax it. … Continue reading

The Jesus in JMO

Exactly one year ago, I lost a very special friend.  I wrote this blog then, and mean it just as much today.  Perhaps no friend has ever loved me better than he.  In… Continue reading

Sounding it Out

Like any good parents, my husband and I argued agonized over what to name our children.  I wanted to name my daughter Eliza; it means “happy” (which I hoped she would be), offered a… Continue reading

Exchanging TMI for TLC

Compassion has never really been my thing.  Teaching PE has made me down right heartless.  As a rookie whistle-blower; I used to swoon over every boo boo, bandage every scrape, ice every bump. … Continue reading

A New STANDard

During the first eight months of my daughter’s life, I recall her being content exactly twice.  The first time was in September (she was born in July), at a Oregon State Football game.  … Continue reading


 Growing up with only sisters has left me a bit naïve.  I fail to  grasp the humor of bad smells, the awe of sound effects, and the allure of sticks.  My son is like… Continue reading

Hairy and Still Married

Image by Charles Pugsley Fincher At the risk of destroying my reputation, I succumb to the truth that I AM a lazy shaver.  I plan my wardrobes and shave accordingly.  Capris?  The razor stops just… Continue reading

Underwear Under Where?

  When it comes to marriage and parenting, let me just say, I’ve read the book.  I’ve also gone on the retreat, watched the video, and received all sorts of advice.  After ten years of marriage… Continue reading

For What It’s Worth

If you have never experienced the Oregon Coast, then let me begin by saying it is not the OC nor Jersey Shore.  There are no blonde bombshells in skimpy bikinis nor feisty brunettes… Continue reading

Just When You Think Nobody Nose

My son is a nose-picker.  He is not ashamed.  When the boogers itch, he picks.  Last year he ended up in an all-day Kindergarten class of unabashed nose-pickers.  With no social pressure to quit,… Continue reading

Hood to CoastLINES

“Hood to Coast” (HTC) is the mother of all relays.  At least, according to the plastic bracelet that cost me $2 at the start line. Certainly the largest relay on the West Coast: a 100 teams of… Continue reading

Pour it on

In the summer of  ’99,  I interned at a church in Southern California.  I lived with a member of the congregation: a middle-aged woman who lost her teenage son in a car accident… Continue reading

The Power of Loose Change

At Eighteen, I announced to my then roommates that someday I would marry a pastor.  My proclamation had less to do with a divine calling and more to do with the fact that… Continue reading

Dentures and Ventures

I’m pretty sure my son will have dentures by the time he’s twelve.  Along with my blue eyes and incredible wit (not to mention humility),  he also inherited one of my less prominent… Continue reading

A Sprinkle In Time

You will never catch me chomping down on a ten-foot corn dog nor bag of Doritos.  I find no temptation in things processed and deep-fried.  Salt and fat are two food crimes I never commit. … Continue reading