I’m 40 years old. Female. A Scorpio. 5’ 4.5” (yes, I included the ½ inch) and weigh 116 pounds. No, this is not a personal advertisement. I love a dog’s soft tender underbelly, extra dark chocolate, cherry red scarves, stick shift convertibles, sauvignon blanc on the beach, and Don Julio 1942 for a really good time. I donate to animal shelters, the Alzheimer’s Association and the…

I love football season.

No. I rephrase.

Almighty God in the Most Divine of All Kingdoms, forgive me for I love more than my mother this holy football season!

My family knows and respects my one simple request this time of year. It's fine to shout with me at the TV screen. But, do not talk to me during the game. Ever. Unless, of course, it's half-time and you're going to tell me how much the opposing team stinks like three tons of…

Barefoot and empty handed, in the frosty pre-dawn hours of late March, separated only by tangled wisps of breath and steam from a nearby pond, I stared down a wolf. Eye to steely eye. Neither of us advancing nor retreating. Neither of us moving, except inwardly in resolve. He, ash grey, thin and fractured from winter’s threshing, far past hunger, eternally empty, steadfast. Me, a solitary barrier to his single, strongest earthly longing; the mother to his first - in all memory -…

At the risk of starting a blizzard of spitballs and chewing gum wads, I'm going to bring up a touchy subject. Why the heck not? I never won a popularity contest, was never voted class president (or class anything), and had to invite my own date to my prom. Hell, when I was a kid, even my mother sold my favorite blouse at a garage sale for ten cents.

Ever know when people screen their calls? You just never seem to connect, but the voicemail doesn't pick up…