,

It’s Teen Time

When your birthdays push you past the half-century mark and beyond, there's something the great P. G. Wodehouse would have called a stone-dead cert:  You have a long list of things that mark the increasing acceleration of time.  Candles on…
, ,

Heat Exhaustion

A Labor Day weekend survey of the garden is a such a dreary exercise. The petunias in the window box, big favorites of the hummingbirds and bees this summer, droop sadly in apparent surrender to the late-summer weather scourge. Their dry,…
,

One Brief Shining Moment

It was one of those golden moments, the kind that linger in memory, perhaps more powerful because it was utterly unexpected. It began with one of those instincts you can’t suppress, because it is rooted deep in your bone marrow.  We were…
,

Wordle Woes

GROAN. Is it a high-potential starting word in America’s favorite word game?  Three good consonants, two frequent vowels…a good opening volley this morning? Or, is it the SOUND that erupted painfully from my throat, scaring the dog,…
, ,

In Scarlet Glory

Hello, Gorgeous. So you’re back, are you?  Yes, here you are, in all your tempting ruby glory.  I can’t get enough of you, and I don’t care who knows it. There are those who may say (sing it, Andy Williams) that the year-end holidays…
, , ,

Cookie Chaos

Picture this:  The next day, there were cookie sprinkles in my bed. You really can’t make this stuff up.  How did the little multi-colored devils make their way from the kitchen?  Certainly not because I was eating in bed; I was too…
, , ,

Post-Holiday Checklist

Made a few notes for next time after hosting Thanksgiving for the family. Things I Forgot For Thanksgiving Dinner Graham crackers for the smores.   Oh, yes, we had the snazzy outdoor firepit, acquired in hopes of extending the space…
, ,

All Hail and Salute

Thinking about your Thanksgiving toasts? Making a list of all the things you’re grateful for?  I’m adding new entries this year, a cadre of stalwarts who deserve way more credit than they likely ever get. Friends, I give you the Grocery…
,

Sing a Song (It’ll Make you Dance)

Desperate times call for…well, you know the line.  If you’ve ever been on a road trip with two near-adolescent siblings in a phase of constant bickering, you may know a level of desperation that staggers the imagination. About two hours…
,

Fans take to the Roadshow

Fame was so close to my grasp.  I could smell it.  I could taste it. Nah, not that kind of fame.  You’ll never catch me dancing on TikTok or “influencing” millions with culinary wizardry or cat videos. My shot at glory seemed…
, ,

Maybelle Goes Sale-ing

Today's installment of the Chronicles is offered as a special tribute to G-ma's longtime friend, Amy-Lyles Wilson, in honor of a recent landmark birthday.  G-ma has been fortunate enough for many years to participate in Pilgrim Writers, a collaborative…
,

We Are What We Are (and Ain’t What We Ain’t)

When I was a child my family would travel Down to Western Kentucky where my parents were born And there's a backwards old town that's often remembered So many times that my memories are worn. And Daddy won't you take me back to Muhlenberg…
,

Losing it, at last?

It’s been such a long road.  Right?  For a year we’ve struggled to hold it together in a world we hardly recognize, some days.  Then, Mother Nature cackles hysterically as she adds on her own cosmic cataclysm:  The Polar Vortex.  Who…
,

Old Spice (Not That Kind)

If you ever feel compelled to examine your lifestyle in one rapid, unmerciful snapshot---a picture that unveils your purchasing habits, your eating patterns, your organizational skills, your housecleaning talents, your virtues or vices as a…
,

Handy Girls

It was the kind of answer you pray for when you are on the verge. “Don’t worry, Mom, I’ll take care of it,” my competent daughter said in response to my panicky text.  “I’ll leave in about 15 minutes and will be right over.”…
,

Storytime, COVID-style

A drama in one act The scene  Location No. 1:  A 7-year-old girl’s bedroom at about 7:45 p.m.  The room is captured in the screen camera’s eye and beamed over the ether to another screen miles away, via the technology that is re-defining…
,

The New Guy

Time is a blur these days, but it still seems that our relationship was in its tender, early stages when suddenly, with the onset of a national emergency, we became captives together. Maybe not captives exactly, but we are tethered here by…
,

Kids With Cameras

The scene:  A sunny Sunday afternoon in the neighborhood. The subject:  G-ma's new best pal, being lavishly admired by Buddy, camera in hand. The result:  Documentary?  Comedy?  Biography?  A pinch of all those flavors. Click below…
,

Farewell, Old Friend

In the early morning half-light, long before I would routinely switch on bedroom lamps, I drop to the floor in my nightgown to the spot where she is dozing next to my bed. She has never been much of a cuddler, preferring to demonstrate her…
,

Top 10 Grandkid Questions

If the grandkids are awake, breathing, and on the premises, questions are buzzing like bees swarming a hive in summer.  There is nothing to stoke the mental agility, touch the heart, and occasionally terrify the soul of a grandparent more…
,

To Sleep, To Dream

Need a little something to help you sleep? Of course you do. If you are over 50, as many of G-ma’s readers can proudly claim, it’s a virtual certainty. Sleep problems are a guaranteed conversation topic wherever people of a certain…
,

Demystifying Detritus

The grandchildren are growing up so quickly it almost hurts to watch it.  With spring birthdays just weeks apart, Buddy and Sis are about to turn eight and six, respectively, and change seems to manifest even in the (luckily) small intervals…
,

Hope Smiles

The broad-shouldered, stocky shopper with the expression of a man on a mission stepped up to the counter and carefully deposited his haul:  two stacks, six boxes high each, of soft-soled bedroom slippers in various cheerful prints.  An…
,

About the Aftermath

Four generations turned up at our family Thanksgiving table this year, a memorable time, indeed.  Seated with honor at one end of the table was my 87-year-old mother, now bearing the title our uncle used to call the OLM (Oldest Living Member). …
© Copyright | THE G-MA CHRONICLES | Web Design & Development by Data Driven Design