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Bus Driving . . . and why it requires insanity.
Posted on September 25, 2013 4 Comments
So I have come to the realization that I am stupid. No, no – seriously. I mean, my current M-F job (plus some weekends, when my mouth turns mutinous and blurts out, “Yeah – I’ll drive the team!”) is as a school bus driver. No, not the small suckers that had the butt bitten off […]
All Around the Town: Tales from Bus Driver Hell
Posted on March 18, 2013 2 Comments
It is possible that I have been asked to write a Bombeckesque memoir about being a bus driver at least fifty times. And yes – the tales from the road could fill an encyclopdeia. But I am a professional writer (and driver) and believe it or not, my time is somewhat squeezed. So yes – […]
BOOK REVIEW: GREAT AUNT SOPHIA’S LESSONS FOR BOMBSHELLS (ADULT FICTION)
Posted on September 9, 2012 4 Comments
GREAT AUNT SOPHIA’S LESSONS FOR BOMBSHELLS by LISA CACH I simply couldn’t put this down – read it cover to cover in one day. Lisa Cach is riotous. While it is entirely possible I understand the feminist humor in this because I am a fellow graduate of the oldest all women’s college in the country […]
I see . . . ACORNS *GASP*
Posted on July 18, 2012 4 Comments
I see acorns. Lots of them. IN JULY NO LESS. We are totally *BLEEPED*. If you ask “why” then you aint’ from this ‘hood. You see, here on Cape Cod, when acorns rain down from the trees like jimmies on a Steve and Sue’s soft serve twist, we know we are going to be digging out […]
Why kids don’t come with INSTRUCTIONS!
Posted on July 17, 2012 4 Comments
Recently I had a discussion with a dear, old friend about how, when we were young, no one read warnings. We kids were flung in the far back of a decrepit station wagon with the dirty dog and sand-encrusted beach toys. Suntan lotion was known as the bottle with the bare-butt baby on the front […]
Yes, Virginia, a school bus can go rabid.
Posted on July 16, 2012 2 Comments
My three-year-old sees a face on every car that crosses our path. Secretly, you see it too. The headlights are eyes, the grill a smile. Sometimes a vehicle can be temperamental, breaking down at the most inopportune times. Sometimes we name them and cry when we sell them. Which raises a valid question: are the […]
Cape Cod Scribe 