Memoirs about friendship abound. One I enjoyed depicts the strong bond of two women, kindred souls who loved writing and dogs. Gail Caldwell titled the book “Let’s Take the Long Way Home,” because that’s what they would do, after a long hike through the woods.…

Searching for an end to my headaches has brought me in touch with many interesting people. I use that word, “interesting,” because to use a word like “weird” or “zealous” or “cockamamie” or “nuts” would be just not very helpful. So I am not going…

I found my baby book the other day. It’s not much. A slim, fake-leather volume titled “Book of Baby Mine,” it holds a lock of hair, a pair of tiny footprints, and the time of my birth. Now I can have my astrological chart done,…

Am I going nuts? Or not? I’m not being rhetorical or metaphysical here. I’m on a diet – an “elimination diet” – and nuts are taboo in this land of no-nos. Shelled, raw, toasted, sliced, salted – all those tasty variations are forbidden to me,…

Confession time: I don’t know the names of most of my neighbors. First names, a few, the people next door and some across the street. A couple of them work where my husband or I work, so we know them. A few, we call by…

I have always thought that when a writer gets an idea for a story – or a poem, play, essay, or encyclopedia entry – she should keep it to herself. I’ve told a few people, over the years, my ideas for this or that piece…

I have always been confused by the song “Let It Snow.” I sang it at a caroling party last week, which was timely, since Dubuque had its first real snow that morning. It seemed like everyone I knew had been nervously wondering when it would…

As I write this, my birthday is fast approaching. As you read it, it’s already come and gone. This is one of those birthdays they call a “milestone,” whoever “they” are. And what the heck is a milestone, anyway? I’m picturing a big rock with…

As I write this, it’s raining to beat the band. The temperature is falling, and all that’s left on the maple tree outside my second-story window are bunches of brown and brittle seeds. It’s my favorite kind of weather. I like my skies grey, although…

Say it isn’t so. I’ve just been to a new doctor, a phenomenal doctor, who has concluded, at least tentatively, that I might have food allergies. She says it would explain the inflammation I went to see her about, as well as some other fun…

So many people have died this year. Famous people, the ones we remember from TV shows, old movies, favorite songs. Dick Clark, the world’s oldest teenager. Donna Summer, disco queen. Etta James, whose version of “At Last” will always be infinitely better than anything Beyonce…

When I was a sixth-grader, I was a proud member of the Safety Patrol. This meant I wore a sash and silver badge, and I got to keep the other kids in order. If they were walking in less than perfect order, I was instructed…

I first saw them one day after work. Five chickens – three speckled black, two honey-red – right there under my bird feeder, cleaning up the corn the sparrows and chickadees had knocked to the ground. Since no joy is as good as a shared…

This is an apology to my mail carrier. My abject apology. It happens every year, mid-August. It’s bad enough that I subscribe to, oh, a dozen or so magazines, but we’re talking about The September Issue. Of Vogue. Do you know what I’m talking about?…

In the land where I grew up, it was always 82 degrees. Inside the house, I mean, in the winter. Our furnace was top-notch, and my dad wasn’t afraid to use it. He had a wife and two daughters, and he wanted them to be…

There I stood, facing one of the most terrifying tasks expected of women. I’d already done enough, I thought, giving birth, changing diapers, tying shoes, monitoring TV, standing in line for parent-teacher conferences. But no. I was standing in the dining room, at the head…

I’m sorry, dear reader, but I can’t write my column this week. Here’s why: I’m tired. Dead tired. Beyond exhausted. Is it because I rode in RAGBRAI? Tried out for the Olympics? Hardly. It’s the new drug regimen my neurologist put me on after another…

I grew up surrounded by drinkers. Drinking was what grownups did. I never thought of them as alcoholics, and despite whatever reading I’ve done about hard-core imbibers, I will never be sure if my parents fit the description or not. Did they drink in the…

By the time this appears in print, my favorite Western state could have all gone up in flames. I lived in Colorado for nearly a decade, for the entire length of my first marriage and then some, moving back to Iowa to be near my…

At our church, we have rituals. Every church does. That’s the main reason some people go to church on a regular basis, to have that kind of punctuation in their lives. The rest of their week can be consumed with the earning of money at…