I’m kind of embarrassed to put this out there. It’s just not the kind of thing you talk about in public. But I need some help here. I can not get the stink out of Charlie’s washcloths. I’ve googled the hell out of this one and nothing works. I’ve soaked them in vinegar which supposedly does the trick on sports bras. (Personally, I only have a passing acquaintance with sports bras seeing as I don’t like to work out hard enough to break a sweat.) I even tried boiling the darn things, but that was just too home on the prairie for me. I’m at the point where I’m thinking about buying a stack of …

Last Friday was the anniversary of my mother’s death. Fifteen years! I can’t believe it. It seems like only yesterday and at the same time, a million years ago. My mom lived with cancer on and off for four and a half years. And boy, oh, boy, that last one was tough. I like roller coaster rides and all, but at the fair. Not so much at home. Her dying wasn’t scary, like you’d think. It was a natural thing. Beautiful, in a stark sort of way. And the hospice people were great! What a wonderful organization. The nurses, social workers, chaplain and volunteers just couldn’t have been nicer. They were there when we needed …

I love food. No secret about that. I love eating it, of course, but I also like looking at pictures of food in magazines, cookbooks, facebook, Pinterest, billboards, you name it. I call this food porn. You know what I’m talking about! In my humble opinion, food always tastes best when you didn’t cook it yourself. What makes book group fun? The books? No. The idle chit chat? Maybe. But where’s the food? Then there’s going out to eat. What’s not to like about that? First off, you got your cocktails and bread basket, and if you’re lucky, some herbed butter. Or in an Italian restaurant: focaccia and olive oil. Then you get to pour …

The Women Who Run With the Moose went to see the Downton Abbey movie last week. You bet we did! For some reason, Charlie had no interest in it. You might not think it’d be me and the girls cup of tea, either, but we’re big fans. Didn’t start out that way when Betty first suggested we watch it together. But you know what? Downton Abbey’s kind of like Moxie. You might not like it straight off, but hang in there long enough, and it starts to grow on you. Before you know it, you can’t get enough. We were all a little bummed out when the television show ended. I mean, the way we …