tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-228020822011-11-07T01:44:32.719-07:00In which I note the vagaries of everyday life.Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.comBlogger111100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-16175991080985389842010-01-02T08:23:00.008-07:002010-01-02T09:55:36.417-07:00

Little did we know, on December 31st, 1999, that the much-feared impending end of the world due to computer malfunction, inevitably resulting--according to the pundits--in widespread chaos and anarchy, would be the least of our worries in the coming decade. I know I was clueless. I was single, healthy, self-employed and all was right in my world and I couldn't imagine that life could do

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-59923459007834404262007-05-18T15:02:00.000-07:002007-05-21T09:36:30.092-07:00

My grandmother was no lady. Now, having stated that so plainly, let me disavow you of the notions of what Not A Lady usually means. She didn't have sexual relations with multiple partners for or without profit. She didn't drink to excess - barring the occasional grasshopper - or smoke anything in any form. She didn't use foul language much worse than hell or damn. What she was not is the

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1172521354256026682007-02-26T12:04:00.000-07:002007-03-04T12:05:49.226-07:00

Last night was Oscar night, and I know we were all watching. Sorry, but this is a throwback from my days of working in salons, where you had to know on Tuesday morning what everyone wore, what their makeup looked like, and how they wore their hair. I saw the Oscars referred to recently as the woman's version of the Super Bowl (in which case, can we have funny commercials, too?), and I think

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1171409157144645072007-02-13T14:27:00.000-07:002007-03-04T12:18:06.213-07:00

According to a recent article on cnn.com - and contrary to what most people believe - menopause is defined as being a single day that occurs 12 months after a woman's last menstrual period.A line in the sand, as it were. Before that single day, you are either pre-pubescent, a woman who menstruates on a somewhat regular basis, or perimenopausal. After that day you are post-menopausal. It is

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1166138316998063292006-12-14T14:55:00.000-07:002006-12-15T11:15:51.510-07:00

All my life I have been a feeder of birds during the cold months. Living in upstate NY in the middle of fierce winters, as soon as the driveway was cleared after a snowstorm the next task would be to clear paths out to the various bird feeders both front and back, so that we could then go out and feed the birds for my Mom. She would remind us that the birds needed that food to keep up their

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1164600415861607402006-11-26T21:01:00.000-07:002006-12-04T14:54:10.713-07:00

After posting the previous to my blog and mentioning my situation on a couple of the knitting lists, I was flooded with emails. Some were from women who had also been through the long wait until they found out that they, too had a negative biopsy. Others were from women who had positive biopsies and survived subsequent surgery and treatment. One was from a woman who has had breast cancer, as

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1163275645142042362006-11-11T12:01:00.000-07:002006-11-26T19:43:24.363-07:00

When Jill Caroll was finally released from captivity after being kidnapped in Iraq and held hostage for so many months, cnn.com started serializing her story of her experiences. It was obvious that she was in the process of writing a book about the ordeal, and it is my fervent hope for her that she sells enough copies that she need never worry about anything ever again. I was asking my sister

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1161097260110925052006-10-17T08:00:00.000-07:002006-11-11T15:42:53.963-07:00

Years ago I had a friend who, while she could be called neither sane nor sober (certainly never the two at once) could always be relied upon to be rather entertaining, to have the perfect turn of phrase - in fact, to be funnier than hell in any situation. One could say that this, and her loyalty as a friend, was always her saving grace. I remember during one particularly frantic time in her

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1160839198954066512006-10-14T07:26:00.000-07:002006-11-18T15:39:37.256-07:00

My husband is British. Welsh, to be exact.I don't mean this is the sense that you so often hear people who are native to America speaking of themselves as 'Italian' or 'German'. When my brother and sister-in-law announced that their daughter was getting married, somewhere in the conversation it was mentioned that her fiance was Irish. I expected a skinny, rosy-cheeked man wearing track pants

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1160684237916815072006-10-12T11:51:00.000-07:002006-11-28T17:57:24.316-07:00

When was the last time you went shopping for a bra? For one reason or another, it has been several years since I ventured out on that quest, and may I say that those intervening years have not been kind to my body.I came of age in the mid-70s when women were burning their bras right and left, and much to the shock of our mothers, wearing a bra had suddenly become optional. Never having been

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22802082.post-1140563888795112542006-02-21T16:17:00.000-07:002006-10-05T09:00:34.640-07:00

Having to pee in the middle of the night is an interesting thing. Here in the desert where you must constantly guard against dehydration even in normal life, needing to get up in the night means you are drinking sufficient water to stay hydrated, and therefore, to pee. If you don't need to get up in the night, should you worry about not having drunk enough water? Will you shrivel away during

Lyndahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00290526988317334953noreply@blogger.com1