Search Results for: Amy Abbott
“To sleep, perchance to dream — Ay, there’s the rub.”
Hamlet (III, i, 65-68)
This is what Shakespeare said through the pensive Dane in one of The Bard’s most famous plays. I’m guessing Shakespeare may have had a cat. The “rub” he’s talking about is the very witching time of night when the cat wakes up and rubs his forehead against your face, just because he can.
With a cat, there’s little sleeping and lots of rubbing. […]
My husband and I love making stuff up. We aren’t quite normal. We repeat this nonsense so often that it becomes a part of our story. Soon, we are not even sure if it is not true.
Take this morning, a perfectly agreeable Saturday morning. We slept in, a lovely bonus sleep time with no alarm clock. The cat slept between us, and it was just chilly enough to enjoy a crumpled blanket over my face. […]
(Amy McVay Abbott’s humorous essay originally appeared in The Broad Side. Reposted by permission.)
As we age, parts of us change color. We want our teeth to be white, but not our hair. We want our arms and legs sun-kissed and bronzed, but certainly no brown age spots on our faces. It is a problem we women “of a certain age” deal with every day.
A few weeks ago I was visiting my father who lives in a retirement home. […]