When did the human race become a species in such a hurry? Ask any law enforcement officer with a radar gun, and I’m sure he or she will confirm we need to slow our roll. There are just too many distractions when we are behind the wheel to make matters worse. I can’t count the number of ...
Eight years. That’s how long I have held onto a cactus plant that came from my mother’s house. I’m still not sure if it is a Christmas cactus, Thanksgiving cactus or something else. All I know is that for eight years I had watered and tended the plant that remained green but never produced any blooms. It has been exasperating, especially since a larger cactus plant sitting next to it would produce gorgeous red flowers several times each year. The two plants were sitting side by side in the same window area. They were watered at the same time and left in the dark for the ...
The gray knee socks, pleated skirts and white blouses were a dead giveaway. It was difficult to get away with mischief while wearing the Catholic schoolgirl uniform. The same goes for the boys who stood out with their neatly pressed dress pants, crisp shirts and don’t ever forget your ties, boys. Growing up Catholic in a city the size of Wheeling meant we kind of stood out among the rest of the crowd when we were dressed for school. And because my high school, Wheeling Central Catholic, was located a stone’s throw from downtown Wheeling, we had to be on our best behavior if ...
Suddenly, it’s May. For as long as I can remember, May has been the month of the Blessed Virgin Mary. As kids, we would pick flowers from our yard — and sometimes a neighbor’s yard — and place them on the Mary altar at our church. Ironically, May was also the month of our mother whose name just happened to be Mary as well. We picked flowers for her, too, even if they were dandelions or another weedy blossom. Mom would have been 99 on this Sunday, May 11. Sometimes it’s hard to believe it’s been eight years since she left us. So when May rolls around, our thoughts turn to ...
This may come as a surprise to some of my younger readers, but there was actually a time when you could go into a clothing store and there would be a clerk there to assist you. I know that is a strange concept to a generation that is accustomed to picking up a cellphone or turning on a computer and shopping online. The number of bricks and mortar stores, now long gone from your downtown streets, served my generation well. I worked for one of those department stores — Hornes of Wheeling — when I was in high school and shortly after I graduated. Hornes was just one of those ...
So here it is, spring. For a generation of baby boomers, I’ll bet most of you can commiserate with me on what spring really meant growing up. In my parent’s house, it meant spring cleaning. This was no small task in a three-story old Victorian home inhabited by 12 children, two parents, a dog or two, a cat and even some rabbits at one time. Imagine just trying to maneuver around a playpen that was eternally set up in the TV/living room or the chrome and padded high chair in the kitchen. Then there were overflowing toy boxes, hockey sticks or golf clubs parked by the front door ...
