Discover! Experience! Write!
Are you reading this in your pajamas? The sales of pajamas have tripled in the last five months, and the sales of business wear have decreased. Maybe you are wearing an old T-shirt and sweatpants? Boxer shorts? Or naked? When
I reach into the dairy case at Safeway and grab my one-half gallon of Vitamin D whole milk. A five-year-old little boy with big brown eyes and curly black hair sits in the grocery cart. His dad reaches in and
Coronavirus Day #20 The invisible enemy. A war is fought between two or more enemies. Soldiers fight for their countries wearing uniforms to distinguish enemies from friends. These soldiers identify themselves by the color of their uniforms and the patches
Bartlesville, Oklahoma was not on my bucket list. My daughter lives in Tulsa and suggested we visit Bartlesville and stay in the Price Tower, a forty-five-minute drive from her home. Price Tower, located in Bartlesville, is one of the only
Who is afraid of yoga? Me. I am not afraid of airplanes, traveling alone, elevators, nor tunnels. I am afraid of MRIs, escalators, and yoga. I am not a yoga practitioner. I didn’t have my first yoga class until
Japanese men do not open the car door for their wives. They open the car door for their mothers. The wives are left to open their own door. The Japanese man will help if his wife is carrying a baby.
I am never late. I arrive thirty minutes early for lunch, dinner dates, lectures, doctor’s appointments, and classes. I arrive at the airport two hours before my flight is scheduled to take off. I want to avoid possible traffic tickets,
I don’t need bereavement counseling! This is what I said to myself the day after Sumio went to heaven. It’s not that anyone suggested that I attend. I never thought about it. I don’t want to express my feelings about
The plane lands with a thud on the Tokyo tarmac, fifteen hours after take-off from Phoenix, Arizona. I look out the window of row 38 seat C, the window, and see only darkness. It is 10:00 p.m. in Japan. I
One hour after reciting our marriage vows my Japanese husband whispers in my ear, “Please, no more meatloaf, or mashed potatoes with gravy.” Oh no! Now, what do I cook? We first started dating six months ago, he took me
