Enjoy diverse perspectives from West Michigan women.
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My spring break was a vacation from phrases I hear all too often and don’t really want to hear again. The phrases are spoken by my daughter, aka, The Teenager, whom I love dearly, but sometimes when she speaks, it affects me like nails on a chalkboard. That grinding, whiny sound that just annoys the you know what out of me.
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A couple days ago, I was attending the National AfterSchool Association’s national conference and heard the best keynote speaker I’ve heard in a long time. While his presentation was a geared toward the afterschool professional, his message resonated with me in several ways because it could apply to just about any industry.
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Our house hunting fun began about five years ago while my husband and I were living over on the East side of the state. Every house we looked at, the price was either in our "jaw dropping" category or it was a full HGTV/DIY special in and of itself. Frustration set in and we decided to take a break from the hunt.
Later that year we got engaged and moved to Grand Rapids. We packed up our stuff and moved in with my sister and brother-in-law, then decided to start the hunt again. We were getting married that May and wanted to finally get a place of our own. But, once again, nothing was calling our name so we moved into a one-bedroom apartment.
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This weekend I gave an alumni talk for an organization with which I was heavily involved with in college. The talk was part of a weekend retreat where I myself retreated every semester while at MSU. I've given talks on those retreats before, some in the exact spot I gave this weekend's, in fact.
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Why does a woman living alone need a gallon-sized jar of pickle spears, you may wonder. How could this purchase merit any sort of sense? To these questions I say first, I love pickles, second, buying in bulk allows me to practice time-tested frugality, and third, when I buy enough for thirty-seven, it makes the one sitting alone at the dinner table feel a little less lonesome.