Author Archives: Molly

Tweet The photo above represents not just my cat, but something I almost never, ever do. You see, I am the sort of person that decides on a certain decor–a particular arrangement of the furniture and various accessories in my … Continue reading →

Tweet Writing a blog post every single week for over what? ten years–becomes harder as time goes by. I cast around for topics, and since nothing in the news is “good” any more, writing about current events gets repetitive. I … Continue reading →

Tweet I am taking a wheel pottery class. I am the worst student in the class. I actually made the above pot on the wheel, and if you have watched The Great Pottery Throw Down on HBO, you will readily acknowledge … Continue reading →

Tweet Hikers are stalwarts. They love terrain. Nothing thrills them more than putting on their stout shoes, spraying insect repellent all over, donning a knapsack, filling a water bottle/s, and heading out. I am not in this group. First off, … Continue reading →

Tweet The nasturtiums on the balcony are looking puny. The sweet potato vines are, too. I have dried all the hydrangeas that will fit in vases, and the August drought has set in. What an odd summer it has been. … Continue reading →

Tweet This afternoon, I had the pleasure of being interviewed by        myself. Here is the transcript: ME:  Good afternoon, Molly. ME:  Hello. ME:  How has the pandemic been for you? Do you think the worst is behind … Continue reading →

Tweet It’s not over. There is the variant. Maybe more variants. Masks or not? Covid is still the top headline. It haunts us all. I managed to get by during the past year of isolation and worry. However, I had … Continue reading →

Tweet My husband and I lived through the pandemic so far, but it has taken its toll. We feel as old as the hills. Do you? So here’s a playlist I curated just for those of us who feel especially … Continue reading →

Tweet Nineteen months. Well over a year of not seeing my daughter, her husband, or more importantly, our grandchildren. At ages seven and four, I wondered if they would remember us. I knew they had changed so much since we … Continue reading →