Now is as good a time as any - actually, probably the best since it's tradition - to take stock of your situation and offer thanks.
November 11; the day flags will fly, government offices and even schools will be closed in observation of Veterans Day. While the observances are being conducted here in the United States, many of those veterans are continuing their journey on our behalf on foreign soil, as well as here on the homefront. Even more ironic is that for the veteran who has returned home and to civilian life, this day may be like every other for them.
I recently took my first trip to Las Vegas. Astonishing, I know. Pretty much everyone has been to Vegas. It's hard to believe that it's taken me this long. I have traveled quite a bit, starting when I was fairly young, but somehow never made it to Vegas.
I'm still at the front desk.
Among the myriad of things that pass across my desk on any given day, one of them led me to the idea for this column. Actually a few things did but as I was tossing ideas around in my head regarding what to write about, a slip of the fingers sealed the deal.
Whether or not you exercised your right to vote on Tuesday, Nov. 3 - either by going to the polls or perhaps sending in your mail-in ballot, the sheer fact that you had that opportunity is not something everyone gets to experience.
I've always enjoyed a love affair with books. When I was a kid, the town library was located in a historic building that was also part museum. So if you went up the front stairs to the right, you found rows of books and a cozy reading area with a beautiful rock fireplace that in the winter sometimes had a crackling fire going; if you went left, for a dollar or two, you could gaze at some of the town's rich history preserved behind glass.
The past 30 days have really been pretty exciting.
I try not to be a hater, but when it comes to NFL commissioner Roger Goodell, I'm on the sidelines gulping down tiny green cups of hater-aide with a death stare that could melt steel.
I've been getting a lot of questions lately about how things went at my recent class reunion. I'm an Oakdale High School alumna, and the word is around town about the wild party. For those of you who haven't been in a local beauty salon or coffee shop to hear all about it, this is my story.
I'm not sure about the rest of you, but parenthood seems to have this inexplicable effect on both my rational and irrational fears.
You're probably thinking what that title could possibly mean, since there really are a lot of topics we could cover with that type of blanket statement.
Too darned hot. It's too darned hot. Here we are, the end of September and the temperature is still hovering in the high nineties. It even touched 100 degrees in the past week.
Does there ever come a time when you make peace with all the little flaws that make you an individual? If the plastics of Hollywood are any indication, the answer is a resounding no. Statistics taken from the American Society for Aesthetic Plastic Surgery state that people aged 35-50 had the most procedures - over 4.5 million - and while women were at the top, men are in there, too, with 8 percent of the total. The top cosmetic surgery for women was (take a wild guess) breast augmentation; and for men, liposuction. So, actually, it's more than Hollywood supporting ...
May always makes me think of Mother's Day and flowers. And this year we added a graduation, planning for a wedding in June, and everything else in between.
As I write this, a named suspect wanted for attempted murder is on-the-lam, in a city that doesn't have any detectives to investigate its cases.
As I write this, a named suspect wanted for attempted murder is on-the-lam in a city that doesn't have any detectives to investigate its cases.
Many of our readers may recall the little yellow VW bug that became former Riverbank News editor John Branch's 'signature' vehicle. We laughed (mostly with him) at the trademark jet engine sound when he fired the bug up, shared our concern when one of the wheels literally fell off as he was turning the corner to come to the Oakdale office – luckily he was close enough to park with three wheels intact – and celebrated with him when the bug went to storage and a newer, more reliable vehicle emerged.
Who knew there would be an adjustment period to living the dream? I certainly didn't. Many of you know I published my first book in December 2006 and it's been a dream of mine for longer than I can remember to support myself solely on my fiction writing income. After many years of incredibly hard work, I managed to make that dream a reality and I left my post at The Leader to live the dream.
As I write this column, I am planning to be off work for an ROTC assignment.
Monday, April 15 did not start for me as it did my friend and running teammate Cathy McClelland or Oakdaleans Vanessa Walton and Tom Burchell, or Jesse Santana of Riverbank. I did not board a motor coach in my sneakers with a race bib pinned to the front of my shirt in anticipation of running the 117th Boston Marathon.
No need to check the calendar and this isn't an April Fool's Day joke – I am just trying to get my column schedule back 'on track' after having been haphazard about it the last couple of months. I know one ran just last week, so forgive me for the back-to-backs.
Twenty years goes faster than you think. Trust me.
More than a week past deadline, I finally have taken a few deep breaths and will try to get this column written. Typically, the 'Marg-Ins' column appears the first Wednesday of the month, which means it is running a week later than normal this time.
The Super Bowl Season is upon us as many of us gather for what is as close to an American holiday as it can get.
Hello, Escalon, Oakdale, and Riverbank. I am the new girl at the Oakdale Leader office. You may have seen my name on a few different articles, pictures, or both in various issues. Or by now, you may have even met me in person.
Happy New Year! We all survived the Mayan calendar apocalypse and the "Fiscal Cliff" – kind of started to remind me of the Y2K phenomenon 13 years ago.
I have an issue with finality. At the end of every year, as everyone is celebrating the ball drop on a New Year, I'm lamenting the fact that I'll never be in that moment again - another year lost to time, never to experience again. In that second before the big calendar change, I panic just a little knowing that it's over. I'm happy to report that the panic doesn't last but I can always count on it because I hate endings.
I was originally going to do this column about family quirks around the holidays, but with the tragic events over the last few weeks with the Sandy Hook Elementary School shooting in Connecticut and the Clackamas Mall shooting in Oregon, we are reminded of the ever increasing threat of an active shooter anywhere in the country. Not holiday feel good stuff, but something we can't ignore.