My friend Carol Reeve logs a lot of miles. She has traveled all the way from L.A. to D.C., or for those with more European sensibilities, from Madrid to Moscow. On foot. And that’s only during the actual marathons she has run. Factor in her four to five days a week of training – multiplied Read More
The story ends with an alpaca wool sweater, a $50 bribe and a cream pie coming toward my face. But like stories do, this one starts at the beginning. Or maybe in the middle, during the years of exquisite angst when having the right friends means everything and having the wrong clothes means everything. The Read More
I cannot get enough of Olympic skater Mirai Nagasu. Her technical aptitude. Her post-performance fist pumping. Her dazzling smile. Her going all-in on the triple axel. In case you’ve been in Siberia or binge-watching This Is Us since Sunday, Nagasu landed a triple axel in PyeongChang over the weekend, helping Team USA win bronze in Read More
Dear February, We’d like to skip right past you, please. Why are you even on our new calendars? All you do is drag us into the past. Last Christmas’s credit card bills linger. Last year’s tax statements arrive. Last month’s New Year’s resolutions break. To be honest, we do a little bit, too. You’re a Read More
Today, my friend Marcia Livingston Kuyper offers an extraordinary glimpse into an event that forever altered her family – and almost forever altered our country. Don’t miss her maiden name. It’s the name of an American hero. The time stamp is Sept. 18, 1980. The scene is Titan II Missile Complex 374-7 in rural Arkansas. Read More
The day I discovered “listen” was an anagram of “silent,” my grammar nerd flag officially flew. That was until last week when I learned that both silent and listen, when rearranged, spell “lets in.” I’m going to need that flag in size Texas, please. Silent. Listen. Lets in. It usually happens in that order, doesn’t Read More
Growing up, I hated every girl who could skip. I sat inside at recess, watching all the skippers. No matter how hard I tried or cried, I just. could … n’t. get the steps and … rhy-thm … right. I felt so uncoordinated. So clumsy. My older sister tried to teach me, but my two Read More
I didn’t love much about my maiden name of Huth. Americanized from the guttural, German “Hütt,” it was mispronounced in classroom roll calls and corporate phone calls. But it did give me the best nickname in the history of softball. Babe Huth. I know. It almost makes me sorry for every other player who has Read More
I’m a middle-class middle child who grew up in the Midwest. I am fluent in “middle.” I write to encourage women to ignite their in-between years with joy, courage and purpose. Let’s be middle managers. Who’s in? ~ Laurie
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