Last weekend I uttered three little words to Chad that I never thought I’d say to a man. Or to anyone, honestly. We had just wrapped up our second day hiking with the dogs during our pets-included stay at Cacapon Resort State Park. The first afternoon and evening were spent ...
When I was a kid, I didn’t have a dollhouse. I had a mouse house. The concept was the same — a tiny replica of a home, filled with itty bitty furniture, occupied by a miniature family. But instead of little humans, the inhabitants of my model were murine. Good behavior on ...
As a woman, I always knew turning into my mother was inevitable. What I didn’t realize was that within 48 hours of occupying their house, Chad and I wouldco-morph into my parents as a whole. We had gone to Lewisburg so he could attend a falconry lesson at the Greenbrier and we ...
Remember that Jack Nicholson-Helen Hunt-Greg Kinnear movie, where Jack plays an unhappy, obsessive-compulsive recluse whose whole existence is turned around by the love of a good woman and, more importantly, a cute dog? It keeps popping into my head as I watch Chad during this week ...
I’ve been thinking about the concept of home a lot lately. Growing up an Army brat, moving was just a part of life — it’s not like you get a say in it, and since you don’t know anything different, it doesn’t seem all that odd to be told you’re picking up and leaving again after ...
I have about a half dozen half-finished columns sitting on my computer. No, not about. Exactly. I have started — and stopped — writing six times in the past week. I’ve got one about home and what that entails. One about the sneakers I wore to ruin (go, me). A ...