Part of the magic of a delayed opening is letting one’s children play outside in the snow for two hours before school. That is if your children are still young enough to realize that a delayed school opening means a longer night of sleeping. Sure, the teachers probably cursed me for their soaking wet snow… Continue reading Wanted: Confidence for a Ninth Grader …or Maybe for All of Them
Dear young able-bodied couple parked in the HP spot at Dunkin Donuts, Normally, when I see a car parked in an HP spot, I look first for a handicapped placard or special “handyman” license plate, as my husband Geoff calls them affectionately. Not seeing one, I sometimes wait for the person to return to his/her… Continue reading An Open Letter for People Who Park in HP Spots and are NOT Actually Disabled
The one on the far left is the one who almost peed her pants while sliding down Cruiser at warp speed. I almost peed my pants sliding down Loon Mountain on Sunday when I should have been skinning up with two friends. No injuries were sustained, fortunately, and a very nice older man and lady… Continue reading Sliding Away in the Steeps
For most local children, the Kanc, a classic, magical rope tow, is where they learn to ski, learn to love to ski, and then, maybe, depending on the kid, learn to race, therein developing an incredible race program from the bottom up. Kanc Carvers is one of those experiences kids remember forever, first as little… Continue reading Circle of Life for Lin-Wood Kids at the Kanc (Title Credit to JJ Bujeaud)
Our newly turned 7 year old was saying shit on the playground at school, and by “shit” I don’t mean stuff; I mean, he actually yelled the word “shit” from the top of a snowbank on the playground, prompting me to write my first crazy mom email as a public school teacher in the same… Continue reading When Your Own Kid Says Shit at School
Dear Barron, Kiddo, in many ways, it must be hard to be you right now. People probably expect you to be older than your ten years. Your dad just became President of the United States, which complicates every part of your life. Your mom is taking heat for wanting to let you finish the year… Continue reading An Open Letter to Barron Trump
This weekend in the lodge I smiled at a mom holding her little boy, probably 2 or 3 based on his tiny ski boots, sound asleep in her arms. I winked that knowing glance of having passed many a nap here at Loon Mountain, our baby, now 5 year old Greta, able to ski… Continue reading For the Love of Ski School
Dear President and Mrs. Obama, Last night you said goodbye to the nation, and I want you to know I will miss you. You don’t know me, but I met you in my head on TV the year you spoke at the Democratic Convention in 2004. You moved my soul when you spoke; your ability… Continue reading My Wagon is Hitched, President and Mrs. Obama: Thank you!
Dear John, I’ve changed your name to protect your interests in case you were not ready for the entire world to know something so private and difficult to discuss even at home. Thank you for sharing with me, a woman you just met while visiting your school as a guest author. The time you spent… Continue reading A Different Kind of ‘Dear John’ Letter
This might be my new favorite picture of Greta and Geoff, not because he is standing at my Uncle Gordon’s standing bar– or because she is wearing her turtle fur neck-up as a hat–or because her hair, after 5.5 years of life is finally long enough to wear not one but two French braids, but… Continue reading Kissing 2016 Goodbye
Heather Ehrman Krill: The "Write" Kind of Coach 