PEACE GARDEN MAMA writing wednesdays: stuff and stuff
If you didn't hear my brother-in-law play Silent Night on his I-phone during our family Christmas concert yet, you must visit yesterday's post first.
For those wishing to read my latest column about ... Posted on 12/28/11 at 1:00 AM
FARGO SOUTH THEATRE Grease cast polishes music
The Grease cast rehearses with the pit orchestra. Tickets are on sale now at 446-2010.
Click pictures for larger view.
... Posted on 11/19/11 at 8:04 AM
GOOSEBERRY PARK PLAYERS Gooseberry Outreach
There's more to Gooseberry than the performances. Each year Gooseberry Park Player cast members can apply to be part of the Gooseberry Advisory Council Kids (GACK). GACK does promotional events, com... Posted on 7/18/11 at 9:39 PM
When we become parents we are forced to make difficult decisions. Some certainly more difficult than others. Whether life threatening, life changing or just a step or two too far outside our comfort zone, change is inescapable. This week, I am tackling change.
It is always interesting to see what subject will strike a chord with readers. A few weeks ago, I wrote a column about my pet peeves regarding grammar, and several readers wrote or emailed me examples of what annoyed them:
My house is on the verge of a language explosion. Little Owen, now 16 months, babbles from morning to night, forming every consonant sound along the way. But he has yet to meld these syllables into many words beyond “mama” and “dada.”
Having raised two of them, I’ve mended my share of scrapes, dug rocks out of pants pockets before laundry, refereed my share of tussles, and on numerous occasions stopped my oldest son from feeding his younger brother an appetizer that would have involved bugs or an amphibious animal of some kind.
My daughter, Eve, has always had a good memory. It’s the reason she was reciting her ABCs and 123s before age 2. As a tot in her car seat, she could point out landmarks left and right, like the library, the hospital where we visited her grandma, and the mall where the fishes and dinosaurs are.
I’m always a little depressed coming back from vacation. So it’s not surprising to find me on return flights home wistfully looking out that little window wishing once again for umbrella drinks on the beach instead of Diet Coke at my desk.
As I looked at my son, jamming out to Nickleback’s hit song “Photograph” alongside his buddy at the Fargodome Sunday night, I was instantly transported back some 25 years in time to another rock concert just about this time of year but just a bit farther west in town.
I texted my nearly 40-year-old daughter some weeks back to tell her that “The Smurfs” movie was at what we affectionately call “the cheap theater.” I also told her that I would not go with her to see it.
“That’s just smurfy,” she replied.
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