Sunday Morning Blog
Thanks for stopping by to check out my blog. Sit down, grab a cup of tea, and browse around. The first Sunday of the month I write a new post and share a little piece of my life.
My two teenage kids take up a lot of space on the page. But I also love to write about the joy and heartache of a long-term marriage, the gift of aging parents, my attempt to lead a healthy, mindful, and purpose-driven life, my career as a real estate professional, and what it’s like to chase a dream at middle age. And lots more. Sometimes I even throw in a recipe for Sunday dinner.
While it’s a blast when a big website re-syndicates one of my posts, my real goal is to write in a such a way that compels you pop back again and again to read my stories. I love it when you like, comment, or share a post. And when you subscribe to my email list—my heart lifts. You’re making my dream come true. Thanks.
P.S. Click Here to read a few of my Favorite Posts. Looking for something else, try one of these categories:
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Heather’s All Over the Web
“Do you have a moment, Heather?” asked my son’s sixth grade teacher. Her voice was tight and concerned. I clutched my cell phone at my ear. “Sure.” My pulse quickened. “Your son and his friends are a bit too bold. Sometimes they’re not so nice.” I swallowed hard and...read more
What The Valley Knows Prologue Molly Hanover lifted her chin. The pain was so sharp her head slammed down onto the muddy gravel. Her teeth gashed her tongue and the copper taste of blood filled her mouth. She closed her eyes and the thump of her heartbeat pounded in...read more
I was at the mall the other day, rushing into Boscov’s to buy some lipstick, when I caught the reflection of an older woman wearing the same leopard print coat that I was wearing. Hmm . . . that’s funny. I’d purchased my threads at the Coach Outlet store thirty-five...read more
The room is dim—the only source of light is the late afternoon sun sneaking through the wavy glass windowpanes and dancing across the deep sills. A huge tree stands against a plaster white wall. There is a tall wooden ladder, its legs splayed, perched next to the...read more
No sooner had I cleaned up Thanksgiving dinner that it hit me. Sure as the sun would rise, Black Friday would dawn and Cyber Monday would follow. The holiday shopping could not be delayed any longer. Time to face the crowds, the credit cards, and the capitalist...read more
Most guys hate to shop, right? My seventeen-year-old son fits the popular stereotype. He’s a one-stop shop kind of guy. If the item can’t be purchased in Dick’s Sporting Goods, then it’s probably not going to be found. In fact, ten minutes in Dick’s is all the time he...read more
The stadium lights glowed in the warm, early evening, the turf a bright green. Hershey Park Stadium was mostly empty as my son’s high school soccer team warmed up. Rap music played over the loud speaker. The American flag waved in the gentle breeze, its red and white...read more
On my computer screen, a grainy black and white photograph stares at me. It’s jarring how young he was. And how handsome. And that he was dead at forty-one—an age younger than I am now. His obituary photo is all that pops up when I Google his name—the single evidence...read more
When my family moved to the Oley Valley, I was in the second grade. The village had less than 2000 residents, one traffic light, and no football team. The Main Street was, and still is, lined with brick Victorians and old stone farmhouses. There’s the M & M...read more