Kymberly Foster Seabolt

“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.”

We are on the hunt for a gently used excavator. By “we” I mean Mr. Wonderful, obviously. I would not have a CLUE that we needed an excavator if he had not informed me of this fact almost daily for the last THREE MONTHS ALMOST WITHOUT FAIL.

Once again, mistakes have been made. Namely, I let “healthy Kym,” the version of me who wants to eat right and is very committed to this goal, pack my lunch. That always seems like a great idea at 6 a.m.

With the cost of groceries these days making me feel like I need to take out a HELOC before I pick up milk and bread, I have one major bone to pick with food manufacturers. Where is the free stuff?

Recently, a friend and I were discussing our upcoming evening activities. She was excited to be getting back to the beauty salon to get her hair done after having missed her regularly scheduled appointment. She also had plans to swing by the pharmacy and pick up a prescription that had finally come in. She was pretty happy about that, I might add.

I wonder how many hours of our life we spend wondering — and worrying — about the weather?

Fall lures you in. Autumn is the season everyone romanticizes and nobody is prepared for. We spend September extolling the virtues of barely changing leaves with captions like “sweater weather!!” any time the thermometer dips below 68 degrees.

Parents spend years planning grand trips, but kids cherish simple memories like snacks on the trampoline and ordinary moments together.

My daughter and future daughter-in-law dress me funny. Only sometimes, of course. It’s just irresistible when we are shopping together for one of us to hold up something outlandish and say to the others, “So you!” This includes, but is not limited to, rhinestone bedazzled mu-mus, feather-edged pajamas and T-shirts depicting drunken dogs. The latter being surprisingly common. I had no idea so many bars had dog logos until I flipped through vintage T-shirt racks.