70 is the new awesome

Tomorrow morning, to paraphrase Anne Lamott’s birthday column opener, I’m going to wake up 70 years old (9 years older than she). I am delighted that 1) I will most likely wake up; and 2) I will be at least 30 pounds lighter than on my 69th birthday. I’ve worked really hard on this; in fact, for… Continue reading 70 is the new awesome

And then…

Anne Lamott describing her usual Sunday School class for youngsters in Stitches: “Then we pray to try to be good and kind to one another. We read a short passage of Scripture, talk about it and try to learn something together about our lives and God’s love. And then, as in all great religious traditions, we… Continue reading And then…

Tubby oldsters and slimmed-down broccoli soup

When I repeated something I’d read about never seeing any old fat people, Stoic the Helpful suggested, “Santa Claus.” OK, besides a really fat and really old guy with a Downton Abbey-worthy household staff, who else? Anybody? Anybody not on a walker because of their abused old knees or hips? I can’t think of anyone;… Continue reading Tubby oldsters and slimmed-down broccoli soup

A foggy day

A beautiful light in this world has dimmed. She was about the age of my oldest daughter, cared about the world — there are so many reasons why this is truly horrid. And I don’t really know what to do with my feelings if I can’t lie abed with books, food and drink. But I… Continue reading A foggy day

Anne Lamott; salmon patties

Anne Lamott said many memorable things Sunday in Charlotte’s Christ Episcopal Church on a golden gingko-leaved fall afternoon. What I heard (meaning remember ) is that she didn’t want to be a model of “victimized superiority” (I know some of those dreary people), that she’s fairly certain among the things Jesus frequently says to her is… Continue reading Anne Lamott; salmon patties