Mother’s Day is a wonderful time to honor the mothers in our lives. It can also be a difficult time for motherless children of all ages or mothers who’ve lost or haven’t yet had a child. (Not a humor post.) Continue reading »
Author Archives: Hippie Cahier
Postcard from the real world
The weather was beautiful. I wish you were here.
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Leaving The Boss for Broadway
When it came time to update my workout playlist, I put aside classic rock to become a Broadway star, with a little help from Cee Lo Green. Continue reading »
Bey-Z’s field trip to Cuba
Maybe you’ve heard this, maybe you haven’t. Maybe you care, probably you don’t. I confess to knowing only as much as I’ve passively absorbed while attending to other things. That’s what makes it blog-worthy: my hobby is writing on topics about which I know very little. Continue reading »
I’m Dreaming of a White Easter
What’s a girl to do when it snows a week before Easter?
Make a snowbunny, natch. . . .
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5585 miles from home
In addition to starting a new blog, completing a couple of triathlons, touring with a Foreigner tribute band, and re-grouting my bathtub, I’ve joined Facebook.
Yes, yes, I know. After waxing philosophically about privacy concerns and other pitfalls, I finally caved. I’ve changed my status from “Conscientious Objector” to “I’m Here For The Kitten Videos.”
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Sick day ramblings of an influenzic brain
I’m sick.
How sick?
Really sick.
If the molecules of air would stop attacking my skin, I could finally get around to reading this. (Photo from Wikipedia)
Really, really sick.
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In defense of Washington
A couple of weeks ago I had a tough day at the end of a tough week, the kind of day that brings to mind the well-worn and oft-misquoted advice, “If you want a friend in this town, get a dog.”
I don’t have a dog to talk me down from this nattering nabob of negativity, so I did the next best thing: I took a walk.
What’s next?
I’ve been trying for some time to come up with one post to leave up and just quietly fade out, but nothing seems to fit. It seems a bit melodramatic and self-centered to make a grand announcement that I’m taking my ball and going home. Really, who cares? But it also seems somewhat rude to just leave without saying. . .something.
A quasi-hippie attempts to accessorize
Somewhere in a law school classroom, a lovely young woman with a funky, contemporary fashion sense shifts uncomfortably in her seat, unaware of the drama that is unfolding . . . and refolding . . . and unfolding again some thirty miles away. She is not aware of any cause for concern, yet there is this slightly nagging sense that the delicate balance of the universe has been set askew.