A former middle-aged woman walks into a bar … No, this is not a setup looking for a punch line, although I welcome your suggested zingers in the comment section. This is no joke; I walked into a bar … and was called “cute”. I don’t object to “cute” although at a bar I would prefer…
Author: Kelly Yarbro Griffith
Kelly Yarbro Griffith
Born in Iowa. Raised and live in Texas.
Horses, Long Island Tea, and Bifocals
I wear glasses. Not just glasses. I wear bifocals. I tried the Progressive lenses (hidden lines) but had difficulty adjusting to that vague transition between the two strengths. I constantly teetered between feeling nauseous and drunk, the latter a vague relic of youth. My basic philosophy is, “If I am going to feel tipsy when I walk, a…
A Little Seltzer Down Your Pants
I have endless playlists, a catalogue of songs at my fingertips waiting to enrich every occasion or mood. List titles include: “Pissed Off” (think 1990’s Alanis Morrissette), “Spiritual” (to compensate for the “Pissed Off” list), and “Cry Baby” (songs guaranteed to bring on the tears). While cruising to the beach (“Toes in the Sand” list), I…
Yank, Ease or Leave
How do you remove a band aid? Do you rip it off quickly, peeling bits of sensitive skin, possibly a part of the scab, and absolutely all of those oh-so-tender feathers? (As a confused child, I cautioned Dad not to pull my ‘feathers’ when removing my band-aids. I spent too much time fancying flying with the birds…
Chin Deep in Quicksand
As a child I spent too much energy contemplating how to survive a chance fall into quicksand. It’s not funny; I am a child of the 60s, when the world obviously had more quicksand pits than we do today. You doubt me? Just watch Tarzan, Gilligan’s Island, Bugs Bunny, The Road Runner, Swiss Family Robinson, or Robinson Crusoe. Although I anticipated…
I Am Getting Smaller
My first guest writer. Recently my sister, Kim, and I received an email from our brother Scott. He expressed thoughts that I know many of us share. With Scott’s permission, I offer his insight: I Am Getting Smaller This weekend I had a long round trip to Williston and had lots of time to myself. It was during…
A Time For Everything
I want a day or maybe two. I’m not asking for a full week; I simply need some time. My father died. Before his last breath, the hospice director inquired about funeral home arrangements and requested documents. After his last breath the paperwork and tasks snowballed. Medicare. Insurance. Obituary. Cemetery. Social Security. Funeral home documents emailed, returned,…
Maxie, Stop!
Although in South Texas it does not feel like fall, I know our time is coming and I am giddy with anticipation. Flannel shirts. Flannel sheets. Over-sized sweaters. Pecans on the ground and in the pies. Crisp air scented with spices. Ah, I love autumn and I love my home in autumn; it is my cozy place. Soft lights, a hint of…
Hello Botswana!
I am celebrating an anniversary, or maybe it is a birthday; I am not sure. You see, I started “Chickie Life” a year ago. The annual recognition of an event is usually considered an anniversary. The start of a relationship, the first day of sobriety, the moon landing, Woodstock, the discontinuation of the AMC Gremlin car (1978),…
Who Really Matters?
My sister Tracy was born with a congenital heart defect. For an oh-too-short 18 months Mom and Dad crisscrossed the country, with Tracy, in search of a cure … in search of a surgeon with a new procedure … in search of hope. They accrued unsurmountable financial debt in an unimaginably heartbreaking and unsuccessful attempt to…
