“The clock has struck midnight.” My opening line from my commencement speech delivered one June evening (two? five? nine?) twelve (months?) years ago. (One question–where did the time go?) Commencement…
Author: <span>Beth Hendrickson</span>
My small town of Ben Avon was perfect…almost. Despite being just miles from downtown Pittsburgh, our little Brigadoon pops up under an umbrella of towering shade trees with sidewalks perfect…
Admit it: you remember the days of making mixed tapes. Yes, the black spooly things with teeth gripping the double circles and blank labels just waiting for teenage scrawl. Those…
A chunk of pureed frozen okra caused me to squeeze back nostalgic tears. Long past its expiration date, this frozen cube of green vitamins had to be pitched in the…
I just don’t get cupcakes. I know they’re the latest boutique food craze and have been for some years. But I just don’t get it. Cake does not rank high…
Last summer, I balked when it came time to slather up my seven month old daughter’s body with sunscreen. That brand new baby skin was just too brand new to…