Mom, a Fork, a Paring Knife, a Yellow Paper clip & Tweezers

My first ‘people stop’ on my adventure was at my mom’s. She’s 91-years-old, beautiful, sassy and make’s those new fangled ‘helicopter moms’ look like squeaky toys. Nobody hovers, points, oversees, and manages someone else’s life, better than my Mom. I’m sixty-seven-years-old and she still thinks I should cut my bangs and tells me so. But, … Continue reading Mom, a Fork, a Paring Knife, a Yellow Paper clip & Tweezers