That’s How I Roll
Every day, my driver waits on top of the hill in a 35-foot stretch vehicle worth more than a McMansion. Usually, Baby Gwen and I are alone on our 20 minute journey to the gym, but there’s seating for more than 20 people. Sure, our chariot has no disco lights, surround sound or even plush leather seating. But with other college students piled in — huzzah! It’s a party. While we burn through fuel at the rate of 3.2 miles per gallon, I feel environmentally pious — holier-than

I Will Scream
This morning, my husband finally purged our leftover bag of Reese’s Crispy Crunchy Bars from Halloween, but now I am getting word that Amy’s Ice Cream is giving away free scoops today from 2-6 p.m. at all Central Texas stores. As free as free is, the thought of ingesting even one additional gram of sugar today sounds about as fun as getting cathed. But for the rest of you wh

Dog Day Afternoon
Despite having our picnic lunch partially consumed by a boisterous black Lab, I think we might have a new Sunday family tradition hiking the Turkey Creek Nature Trail at Emma Long Park. The winding 2.5-mile trail may be named after our Thanksgiving-Day bird, but it is ruled by family canines who shoot down the path like bobsleds at the Winter Olympics. Today’s dog show included hulking Great Danes, a trembling Yorkie and every size of slobbery mutt in between. Our first grader even noticed

Solar Drying
Outside, as raindrops crackle along the eaves, I think about the three plus loads of laundry in the dryer that need to be folded. It’s not a terrible chore, really. I enjoy embracing the soft, warm towels — especially right after the buzzer dings — and reuniting ankle socks with their mates. Even with my two little gals shrieking around the coin-operated laundry room, it’s an an oddly calming ritual, akin to taking a steaming loaf of bread out of the oven. But I still want to do the right thing. In my last complex we had a “solar dryer” (AKA a communal clothesline) which I would frequently use to hang towels and other bulky items. This all

Whole Foods: Why Can’t I Quit You?
Dear Whole Foods, Because of our frequent visits to your 80,000-square-foot flagship store, you probably are familiar with my family. We are the ones playing hide-and-go-seek in your organic-clothing-encircled dressing room. We are also harpooning large chunks of golden pineapple onto our toothpicks. And we like to rock out in your baking aisle — especially when The Go-Go’s assure us that we got the beat. Still, I think it might be damaging to my reputation as a fru