Reflections and Ruminations

Reflections and Ruminations J.S. Whaldo Reflections and Ruminations J.S. Whaldo

The Taste of Trying: Cookies, Pie, and Quiet Heroism

When I was twelve, I was a latchkey kid—like most of us Gen Xers. Being home alone or at a friend’s house without adult supervision wasn’t unusual. One day, I was at my friend Kitty’s house, just the two of us. For some reason, we decided to bake something.

We were responsible kids, so Kitty called her mom at work and asked for permission. Her mom said yes. (Again, Gen Xers.)

We browsed through Kitty’s mom’s many recipe books and settled on pumpkin pie. It must have been just after Halloween, because Kitty had a pumpkin. Real pumpkin pie—how hard could it be?

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Reflections and Ruminations J.S. Whaldo Reflections and Ruminations J.S. Whaldo

An Unlikely Friendship, Born in Tuscany

After the guide finished her talk, we made our way toward the canopied tables set for lunch. As we walked, the guide began pointing out some old machinery. That’s when I first heard her voice.

I don’t think she meant for us to hear it, but there it was: “Ah yes, the rusted machinery tour—every girl’s dream when she books Tuscany.”

My husband giggled and softly agreed, “Right?”

That’s when the three of us—me, my husband, and the voice—looked at each other and grinned. We all laughed and kept walking.

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Reflections and Ruminations J.S. Whaldo Reflections and Ruminations J.S. Whaldo

How I Accidentally Joined the Best Book Club of My Life

I’ve never really considered myself a book club person. I’ve been an avid reader my entire life—I read fast, and like most readers, I have my favorite genres. The idea of being assigned a book I might not be interested in, and then having to meet up with others to sit around and talk about it, didn’t exactly sound compelling.

But when my oldest daughter started a book club and asked me to join, I gave it a shot. At the very least, it was a good excuse to see her once a month—even if only via Zoom.

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