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I’m on the porch flipping through the Italy section of my latest travel catalog when a tooth in my lower right jaw throbs. Please stop, I tell it. I try to distract myself with descriptions of Italy’s art, culture, and…

I’m taking a twilight stroll along the river walk when it strikes me: fifty years ago this week, I moved to the Dells. I can still see myself lugging suitcases down a narrow spiral staircase into the basement apartment I’d…

Last week I added a surprising new addition to my life’s résumé: hot air balloon crew member. My brother, sister-in-law, husband, and I joined my cousin Mike—a balloonist—at the Rhinelander Hodag Park’s Salute to Heroes Balloon Festival. He handed us…

I’ve got that buzz again—that creative thrill that zings through me when I stumble on just the right idea for a column or dream up a fresh way to celebrate the launch of my latest book. My fingers twitch. My…

I’m feeling pretty useless these days. I try to remember the good ol’ days when I was a dynamo. I once jumped into a cold lake because I thought Mum needed saving while she was zipping around on water skis.…

“Summer Nights” from Grease loops in my head as I mash a banana and crack open a beer—not to sip, not yet, but to bait moths.  According to online sources, moths are drawn to a fermented mix of banana, sugar,…

I knew I was about to pass out. I stood up and walked from the carpeted floor to the kitchen to call for my husband, who was downstairs.  I woke up to shouting. “Amy, what was that noise?” Frank was…

In honor of International Fairy Day, which is celebrated this week, I’m sharing a story that proves that a bit of magic—and a sprinkle of sand—can make a lasting memory.  My six-year-old granddaughter, Maria, hurried up the walk to our…

She wore her hair in a stylish French twist, but she could hit a softball out of the schoolyard. She was my third- and fourth-grade teacher, and I loved her. Shirley Meyer never achieved anything as monumental as winning a…

Dear Dad, Happy 100th birthday—and happy Father’s Day! Even though you’ve been gone 45 years, I still think of you often. I like to imagine you’re watching over me and my family with a smile and an approving, “Dirty Dog,”…