I helped look after my granddog during the spring and summer, and as we took our strolls around the extended block on which I live, I would carry the requisite doggie bag (not the restaurant variety). I soon learned to also bring along a bigger bag every few days. Why? To pick up trash.
On Friday, my older grandson will celebrate his 14th birthday.
A year ago, when he entered the teen years, I wondered (in this space) whether he would soon find hugs from his grandmother just a bit too embarrassing. So far, so good. They’re still OK. In fact, he often initiates them.
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:
OK, the election is finally over, and we’ve gotten back to our “normal” lives.
I stopped recording on my DVR every TV show I wanted to watch so that I could fast-forward through the ugly political ads, and I’m weaning myself from going home after work every night and watching MSNBC. (But I do so like Rachel Maddow, and Chris Matthews was even growing on me.)
I read the birth announcements most every day that I work. It’s not that I’m all that interested in the region’s new arrivals; it’s just part of my job as a copy editor.
One can’t help but notice a change in those announcements in recent years: It’s rare to have a list in which all of the parents are married couples.
When school let out for the summer, The Forum ran stories on ways to keep youngsters occupied throughout the summer months. I’m a child of the 1950s – a different time, for sure – so I am amused and perhaps a bit perplexed by the necessity to entertain the small fry until the school bell rings again in the fall.
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