There is so much to say today, yet I struggle to find the words.  Odd, really, because first of all, I am rarely at a loss for words and besides, there are so many questions and thoughts and feelings swirling inside of me, refusing to be buttoned up in a tidy place.  But here I sit. Today Read more...

Guest post by Dave P.   A special post for friends of recovery   Angels pass through our lives, often unnoticed.  Whether we are aware of their presence or not, we are changed because of them and in many cases, our emotional lives are saved because they stopped to touch us.  I've had Read more...

My mother is a recovering Southern Belle.  She would still be Emily Post’s only begotten child if not for having her dignified roots collide with my father's California surfer casualness in the 60s. Years after moving away from the daily influence of her refined Northerner mother and bonafide Southern Read more...

I always dreamed I'd marry someone like my father. He was exciting, daring, curious, charismatic, and not afraid of anything. I was convinced he walked on water and was pretty sure there was no one out there who could hold a candle to him. And then came Wolf. One evening early in our marriage on Read more...

When you look at this image, what do you see? One person might say it's a silhouette of a woman while the next sees a man playing a sax. So which is it? A singer on a stage will hear something vastly different when staring down the throat of the speaker's horn than what she hears upon taking Read more...