Villa Clemons—We Won’t Leave the Light On For You

The worst trouble I’ve ever been in while living at home was the time I turned down the air conditioning. One hot, humid, unbearable July afternoon, I wanted to blow-dry my hair without needing to shower again after from the sweat that was sure to take over my life. Ladies, you know the struggle. The problem was that I forgot to put the a/c back to its original 82 degrees before leaving the house, and received a phone call hours later from my very angry father. If I remember correctly, he told me that it was the most disrespectful thing I’d ever done (in hindsight, the was before I was in college, so I’m sure I’ve done more disrespectful things since then). Perhaps to some of you, this will sound ridiculous, fabricated or extreme. However, if any of you grew up with frugal parents, you’re nodding along like “Mmmmmhmm. Been there. Got that lecture.” Now, as a pretend adult adulting pretty hard, I get it. I’m a utilities miser.

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Ten Thousand Turkeys

In honor of Father’s Day, I present a “flash back” piece dug up from my pre-vino vault–Vino Ramblings: High School Edition.

This has nothing to do with turkey hunting...but it makes me chuckle

You know those old men who sit around telling stories about a ten-foot, one-hundred-pound fish that they almost caught? My dad tells those “big fish” stories to whoever will stop and listen.

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The Real American Dream

I recently visited The States to see my baby brother and sister graduate from high school. No, they aren’t twins, so that’s out of the way. My brother is going on to run track at Bethany College in Kansas majoring in who knows what. My sister, who graduated as class president and valedictorian, is going to College of the Ozarks “down south” to be a biology teacher…honorable, but ambitious? Eh. Then again, who am I to decide if a dream is too big or too small? Am I following any of my “dreams?” Are you?

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I’m Not Celebrating Easter

It’s Easter Sunday, and I’m sitting in my Italian villa all alone…with the exception of Henry and his girlfriend, Coco. I’m not incredibly distraught over it, since you sort of learn to deal with detachment from family holidays when you marry a service member and are stationed a transatlantic flight away from home. That being said, when my sister passed the iPhone around during festivities today, I couldn’t help but feel a strong pang of homesickness; it had less to do with my lack of chocolate and jelly beans, but more with the faces that popped up on my computer screen.

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