The monkeys won this week, an I forgot to wite today's post. Mea culpa! I did, however, get this month's podcast episode edited, broke down several cardboard boxes, and dealt with a bunch of Real Life Responsibilities. I even made Christmas cookies. So, I'm good with giving myself a bit of grace. I'll be back on track next week.

We've got about two weeks left in 2025, and I feel I should be wearing a crash helmet. There is no denying this has been a crazy, weird, and often frightening year. I'm trying to keep a positive spin on things, but the End of the Year Celebrity Die-Off has been particularly hard this year. Loni Anderson, Tony Geary…

Alas, poor sleep, I knew it well…

Alas, poor sleep, I knew it well... I've never had a great track record with sleep. Like most dysfunctional relationships, we have had our ups and downs over the decades, vascillating between too much and not enough . We love each other, sleep and I, but we just can't make our relationship work. For a while, I had it mostly under control.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to pay our final respects to my give-a-damns. All of them. About four hours into my workday, I was done. Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong. I woke up too early. My computer gave me drama. Customers were crazy. I don't know how it happened, but everything and everyone ticked me off.

My cousin Ann posted the following to her Facebook account the other day with the comment, "What??? They don't know?" Yeah, I had to read it a couple of times, too. This isn't The Onion. It's Axios. Now, I haven't identified as a Christian since I was in 12th grade, warbling the Hail, Mary by rote in French along with the rest of the class.

Yesterday I ate a leftover turkey sandwich. Granted, the turkey was a Quorn Meatless Turkey-Style Roast, but it still hit all the right buttons to give me that warm, fuzzy holiday feeling. Back in 1999, I made the decision to stop eating meat (I shited to a pescetarian diet around 2003). I've never regretted the decision to stop eating land animals and poultry, but I did miss certain comfort foods for a long time (like the aforementioned leftover turkey sandwich).

Busy eating plant-based turkey products! See you next week.

This month, Debbie and Deb finish up their conversation on Thanksgiving by discussing radical gratitude, radical kindness, and the two sides of the generosity coin.

I spent much of my early life feeling like a failure. I was never smart enough or talented enough. I certainly wasn't successful enough. And for years, I agonized over my self-proclaimed mediocrity. Why? Because in fifth grade, I was pulled out of class and driven to the local college where I sat in an auditorium with a couple hundred other fifth graders and took a test which labeled me "gifted."

There is so much misinformation being spread about autism these days. The facts are being manipulated, sometimes completely ignored, by people who either can’t or won’t do the research.…

In the 90s, I was in an a capella trio. We were three middle aged women having fun. At 27, I was the youngest by two decades. I was also the steam powering the engine, so to speak. I was the person…

"Thank you for calling _____. How may I help you?" I've said that so many times over my last 30 or so years in Customer Service that I hear it in my dreams. When I'm sked my order in a fast food drive-thru, I have been known to respond with that phrase. "Thank you for calling _____. How may I help you?"

Are ya'll tired? Cuz I'm tired. You'd never guess by the state of things, she says sarcastically. My kitchen is a landmine of grocery bags, canned goods that need to be stocked in the pantry, and questionable leftover containers in the fridge. Laundry is a distant memory, and I can't remember the last time I braved the DOOM factory that is our spare room.

I've had such a hard time writing this post. I've written on the subject of kindness before. It's a normal part of human existence, but these days, it's often hard to remember that. So much is going on right now in the U.S. designed specifically to keep us outraged and afraid - U.S. troops occupying our own cities, elected officials playing deadly games using marginalized communities as pawns, and a greedy oligarchy weaponizing cruelty for its own benefit.

I will never again sacrifice my spirit, health, and self-esteem for a paycheck. And I will check my own tendency to judge my self-worth by my level of productivity, both on and off the job. If the system can only succeed by breaking good people, maybe it’s the system that’s broken.

So, last week I had a...thing... After ten months of trying to get myself together, it all came to a rather dramatic, screeching halt. Just before the start of work on Monday, October 20, 2025, I leaned over to pick up something from the floor. I've always said as long as I can touch my toes, I'm gonna feel healthy.

In this episode, Debb and Deb share Thanksgiving stories and traditionsfrom both sides of the border. Links From the Pod: Barefoot Evangelist Faith Coaching Barefoot Evangelist Publications Greetin…

In my last post, I talked about the division of labor between males and females growing up. Basically, men did the "outside work," so women did the housework. The concept of "men's work" and "women's work" is one of those charming quirks of the patriarchy that seem harmless on the surface, but are definitely not. This division of labor down gender lines has cleared the path for income equality, gender-based gatekeeping in high paying careers (i.e., the glass ceiling), and an incalculable amount of unpaid labor by women.

I've spent a hell of a lot of time saying "no" to people today. It's not something I'm comfortable with, but it's part of my job. Why is it so hard to say no, especially to friends and family? Why is it so hard to put up personal or professional boundaries without the inevitable feeling of guilt? According to an article in…

There is a battle being fought in my home. It's an old fight borne of years of mutual hostility. The adversary? My unwashed dishes. From the first time I plunged my hands into a sink filled with lukewarm, sudsy dishwater, I have been embroiled in a full-on Hatfield and McCoy style feud with dirty dishes. We maintain an uncomfortable balance of power, but it takes only the lightest spark to reignite hostilities.

For the longest time, I have joked that I was going to name my autobiography, "That Girl Ain't Right." It's a phrase I heard a lot, especially when Kat and I were living in Kentucky. I've always been the weird girl. I learned to mask, but I never really managed to pull off normal. This made things really hard in school, jobs, and relationships.