About Me

Woman, reader, writer, wife, mother of two sons, sister, daughter, aunt, friend, state university professor, historian, Midwesterner by birth but marooned in the South, Chicago Cubs fan, Anglophile, devotee of Bruce Springsteen and the 10th Doctor Who, lover of chocolate and marzipan, registered Democrat, practicing Christian (must practice--can't quite get the hang of it)--and menopausal.
Names have been changed to protect the teenagers. As if.

Sunday, May 1, 2011

Beatrice's Hat

Grace comes showering down in the strangest of ways, at the weirdest of times, in the most unexpected places. This week I've felt so world-weary and woebegone, beaten down and beaten up, tired out and stretched thin. And then along comes Beatrice's hat, and all is made new. How can I not love a world that produces such marvels, how can I not revel in a life that allows such delight? A curtsey to you, Princess Beatrice. You go, girl.
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