Kymberly Foster Seabolt

A new robot vacuum immediately dives off a counter and gets stuck under the couch, proving the robot uprising isn't happening anytime soon.

In my defense, I was left entirely unsupervised. You know how you can live with something for like, I don’t know, three decades give or take, and then suddenly one day, you can’t stand it a moment more? No? Is that just me? True to my nature of being an absolute JOY to live with every single day, I woke up about a week ago and just couldn’t stand our pantry. The pantry that has been here for over a century and in my life for three decades. Last Saturday, I was OVER it. I watch home decor shows. I peruse Pinterest. Our pantry was … not cute.

America, we have arrived! Sure, we surfed in on a wave of unlimited beverage refills and ranch dressing, but we did it.

From garden hoses to lava-hot vinyl seats, Kymberly Foster Seabolt looks back at surviving 1970s summers and how our heat tolerance changes as we age.

I am always surprised that one of the number one things people ask me is “how do you find things to write about?” My puzzled response will forever be “how do you not?” Surely, I am not alone in finding life absurd, hilarious, puzzling and sometimes just outlandish?

Remember when we used to purchase a thing, pay for the thing and own the thing? That was it. That was the whole process. Maybe once in a blue moon if we were unhappy with the thing, or the thing failed to live up to expectations or perform it’s thingly duties, whatever those were, we might return it. What we didn’t have to do was answer 20 questions, or a “short 1-75 minute survey” on how we did (or did not) like the thing.

People just LOVE to hate on social media. Meanwhile, everyone seems to be using it even as they protest mightily that THEY want nothing to do with it. Me? I adore it.

Create family memories this spring and summer with an activity wish jar project.

“4 People Hospitalized as Blueberries Reach Highest FDA Recall Level” was NOT the headline I expected to see today.

“Most of our childhood is stored not in photos, but in certain biscuits, lights of day, smells, textures of carpet.”