Watching the solar eclipse?

Watching the solar eclipse?

Watching the solar eclipse?

1921 solar eclipse in Paris
Three Parisian women watching the solar eclipse of 8 April 1921 on the Cour du Havre, next to the gare Saint-Lazare. Courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

Are you watching today's solar eclipse? How are you watching? From where and with whom? Depending on when you read this it may all be past tense, but either way, I'd love to hear your view on the phenomenon.

I will be watching... from my backyard with only my dog, Mickey, as my companion to ooh and aah over the event. And I'll be sporting my mandatory eclipse spectacles for a direct view of the show.

My eclipse glasses became nearly a no-go for me (and mine) at the last minute, despite my having ordered several pair for my entire family a month or so ago. The glasses...

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On kids and creepy crawlies

On Monday, I kicked off the GRAND Social link party by sharing a text from my daughter Megan about the scorpion family she found in her kitchen. Based on the comments to that post, I probably should have included a mention that Megan does indeed have her home regularly sprayed for the creepy crawly things that reside in the desert. The "Bug Guy" — as the scorpion (and other stuff) sprayer is affectionately called by Megan and her clan — visits so often, in fact, he's virtually family.

Or such was the case with one of Megan's long-standing bug guys. Even I met him a time or two during my desert visits. This particular bug guy was an affable man, quite conversational and clearly concerned with the safety and well-being of my daughter and her family. It saddened Megan so when her beloved Bug Guy moved away.

Alas, as bug guys are a necessity in the desert, Megan found another... one who sprays as frequently as her former favorite. But being the desert and all, certain creepy crawlies do manage to escape the bug man's poison and strut their stuff now and then, both inside and outside the homes of even the most diligent bug destroyers.

huge beetle 

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Sunday morning texts

Sunday morning texts

There's nothing quite like Sunday morning texts from beloved kids who have grown and flown.

To wit, the following texts I received Sunday morning from my middle daughter, Megan, mama to my desert-dwelling grandsons:

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2016 Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop: 13 things I loved plus a few me-loved-nots

Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop 2016 recap

I've long dreamed of attending the Erma Bombeck Writers' Workshop presented by the University of Dayton every two years. The revered place writers of various formats — books, blogs, screenplays and more — gather to glean insider tips and load up on laughter and love from folks in their field. Attendance is capped at 200 each year, and I've never made the cut at registration... nor, to be honest, had the money for travel and hotel if I had.

This year, though, I clicked the Register button in time to obtain a coveted Golden Ticket for the event that sold out in six hours, and I eeked out the funds to make attendance at my dream conference a reality.

Unlike many dreams that eventually come true yet pale in comparison to one's expectations, the Erma...

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