It is a truth universally acknowledged that if you want follows, you gotta follow. And then they follow you back. And then you follow each other. The end.
Read moreThese are the shortest days, the sweetest days
I told myself I couldn't close out another week without actually writing something. December is our busiest month, with Christmas cards and class plays and parents association meetings and a good deal of work thrown into the mix. Writing seems to take a backseat...
Read moreChristmas in Dublin
This year it's just us. No family coming over, just the three kids and a dog, some lovely friends and a lot of mince pies. And to be honest, I'm not sure we mind all that much. Christmas in Dublin is a wonder, or as someone wrote recently, like walking into a Christmas card.
Read moreFool-proof tips to enjoying your child’s theatrical debut
1) Don’t freak out over costumes. Assemble it all from the women’s section of your local bargain-basement shop. Don’t fret over navy blue sweatpants as opposed to black sweatpants, and please – PLEASE – don’t make him cry when you find he’s got toothpaste on...
Read moreGood Intentions & Thank Yous
We were going through old boxes, that necessary yet emotionally-exhausting rite of passage before moving overseas. Before our first term in Ireland we carefully labeled and stowed away mementos and heirlooms, birthday cards and documents. These were all the things we wanted to keep, but didn’t really feel like lugging across the ocean.
So just a few weeks shy of returning for our second term, it was time to cull, save or throw out what remained of our first 10 years of marriage, the things held together with faded tape and cardboard. Our bed was a disaster zone of papers and trinkets and, much to my dismay, a half dozen never sent thank you cards… from our wedding.
Oh the shame of finding these outdated remains of my good intentions. With clarity I remembered a distant relative’s queries to my grandmother when a thank you card for hand towels never appeared in her mailbox. Oh, I sent it, I told Granny. No, Karen. You didn’t send it. You didn’t even put a stamp on it.
I'm writing today at Velvet Ashes about saying (or forgetting, or putting off, or actually just being really terrible at) thank you.
