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The Leisure Athlete
“Hey, the new neighbors are moving in. They look like they’re our age and seem fit.”
This was my enthusiastic call to my husband, Garrett, seconds after I pulled out of our driveway. The house across the street, empty for months, was now brimming with activity.
A League of Their Own
“Who is that on the field?”
My friend Bev and I asked each other this question as we squinted from the baseball bleachers. We tried to make out the unknown player running in from the outfield. Although blending in with the other boys catching fly balls, we noted something was amiss on the baseball field.
“Is that Kim Schorg??”
Movin’ on Up
My new boss, Jo, stood behind me. I was in a strange area enclosed by carpeted walls extending just above my seated head. This would be my first introduction to a cubicle. Unbeknownst to me, this work setup would be the office norm of my professional future.
Oh, the Places You’ll Go!
“Today is your day, you’re off to great places! You’re off and away! (Dr. Seuss..)
“Army-Brat!” Although my father was in the Air Force, the name given to children of families in the service who “transfer” from base to base is “army brat!” I never understood that as it incorrectly labeled us (I thought anyway).
When Things Aren’t as They Seem
Scrolling through my Threads feed, a post caught my eye. A full-size bear in the China Zoo was standing upright. The caption said it was a bear, but it sure looked like a man in a costume.
B.L.
Sitting across from my ex-husband, Scott, at a favorite Mexican restaurant, I noticed that our once large party had dwindled down to three. It was on this trip back to Omaha that the seats once occupied by friends, our sons, and Scott’s wife were now empty.
My Barbie World
“What?? You really want to see Barbie? YOU liked Barbies?”
This was my husband, Garrett’s response after telling him I wanted to see the Barbie movie. My answer to his question was not just a yes, but a resounding yes. Not only did I like Barbies, but they were my favorite toy.
The Hottest Day of the Year
“You were born on the hottest day of the year!”
This was the beginning of the story my grandpa would tell my mom every year on her birthday. It was the story of her birth.
Walking Through our Iowa Summers
As a child, I stood watching my grandma as she meticulously wrote my check in her careful cursive. With an amount in the hundreds, it took extra time for her to fill the line where the dollars were written. This was a rite of passage.
Jerry’s Kids
Labor Day weekend in the 1970s included a television telethon that tuned us into Jerry Lewis begging us to help ‘his kids’. Jerry’s Kids were the unfortunate children afflicted with Muscular Dystrophy. Wiping sweat from his brow, Jerry would joyfully thank his viewers for their generous contributions.
The Boys of Summer
It is impossible for me to think back to my childhood summers without associating them with baseball. A dusty field full of dirty boys strategically built next to our town swimming pool fills my memory.
Field of Dreams
I wrote this story in 2012 about my family’s 2002 CWS experience. The story was published in the Omaha World Herald on June 27, 2012. The College World Series will always hold a special place in my heart and my boys.
Swimming Pool Blues
With my many years of running and now cycling as part of my fitness repertoire, I am frequently asked the question "Why don't you do a triathlon?" My answer has always been "I'm not a very good swimmer. I would sink."
I have perfected the dog paddle, but past that, my skills are limited.
The Sound of Silence
This beautiful poem was written by contributing author, Patty Johnson. She wrote these words shortly after her youngest son, Jaime, left for college in 2009. Newly empty-nest moms can relate to the feelings projected in Patty’s words.
The Back Nine
“Look, Steamworks is over there!”
This was the third time we made this observation as we directed our cart to the beer station. With five kegs on tap, Steamworks, a favorite local restaurant and brewery, provided the Girls Gone Golfing with this free fairway treat.
NEVER Go on a Blind Date
I sat in my car waiting to go into my gym on a stormy fall night in Omaha. The rain pounded the pavement the cracking of lightning filled the dark sky. I was on the phone with Garrett, who was at the time, my friend from Denver. This was in late October 2009.
So are the Days of Our Lives
“Like sands through the hourglass, so are the days of our lives,” said the booming voice as a giant hourglass appeared on the TV screen.
That famous line visually adorned 70s television sets in the background of my childhood days. I didn’t understand the significance of the flowing sand at the time.
And Sandy From Omaha Requests…
“In 2009 when I first met my Colorado husband…” was how I began my song request.
The concert was here in Durango and the band was a favorite of ours from Omaha. Thrilled to have my two lives from two different cities converge, I signed my request sheet “Sandy from Omaha”.
You Have the Right to Remain Silent
“But, Mom, we didn’t do anything wrong!! Why won’t you listen to me?”
These were the pleading words from my childhood friend, Bev. Her appeals came out as screams between sobs as she sat in the passenger seat of her mom’s car.
Mike and Vernie
I have a childhood friend who asked me to write a story about Vernie, an icon of sorts from our hometown. This request continues to pop up as I publish new stories about our 70s-era adventures in Remsen, Iowa.
“You should write about Vernie!”
