Lockjaw & Love
On Wednesday night, my jaw started hurting while chewing beef stroganaff I’d accidentally made with bottom round rather than top. I took Randy’s hand and held it up to my face. “Rub my jaw,” I commanded.“What?” he asked. “Can’t you
“Can You Hear Me Now?”
Unaccustomed to a vehicle that doesn’t rattle apart at 65 miles per hour and with the addition of the car’s butter leather interior and electric butt warmers, I felt like a queen as my new Subaru glided onto the interstate behind my
Marriage Does Not Mean Seeing Eye To Eye
My husband and I often do not see eye to eye, and that is not just because of our twelve inch height difference. I have a weakness for wrapping babies like little burritos until their scrunched, reddened faces are the