permission

Around my birthday I often think about why I started this blog.

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what’s in a name

I was in a car this week with 5 women. Two of us named Nancy.

Hey Nance someone said. I answered only they weren’t speaking to me.

What? Nance was the name my dad invented so he could call me Nancy when he was mad at me.

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the eye of the needle

When my girls were little, I revelled in how they were alike and how they were so different.

When I would take them for shots, one shook with a fear that was deep and phobic while the other loved to watch the needle going into her arm.

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