Tag: Wendi Rank

Well, last week we talked about Thanksgiving. Today, we’re talking about The Night of the Banana Bread.

Indy wasn’t feeling great. He was…

I know Thanksgiving is over. I mean, my Christmas decorations have been up for a week.

But I have to tell you about the Thanksgiving…

I complain about the cabin a lot.

The cabin. The Cabin. I don’t own it. That honor goes to my husband and father-in…

So with two gainfully employed adolescents, a few nights a week I find myself in a peculiar position.

I am, for the first time in…

A few weeks ago, I made a comment about my dead pets’ ashes.

In my bar. Their ashes are in my bar.

I thought nothing…

I think I did the worst thing I’ve ever done.

It was a chilly but sunny Friday, the trees just beginning to embrace their…

Well, guys, here I am. I survived the haunted hotel.

And I’m like 98 percent sure nothing followed me home.

But that two percent…

It is the very nature of fall that brings about my complete abandonment.

As October unfurls each year, my husband fades from my world, like…

Take my hand. Join me in the 1980s. For I am trapped there, and though the end is in sight, it is but a glimmer…

You may recall I scrapped my dad’s car.

I got rid of my mom’s car, too. Doing so was way more work and…

I was all in when I committed to staying in the haunted hotel.

Now, not so much.

In a parenting triumph I’m sure would…

So I don’t like the outdoors.

Obviously.

But I married an outdoorsy guy.

I’ve written many words about our opposing views in this…

I told you a few weeks ago I’m about to get scuba certified. I told you this certification is a whole new level of…

In the words of Fiona Apple, I’ve been a bad, bad girl.

And yeah. I’ve been careless with a delicate man.

And while…

I have gone completely off the rails.

The underwear was bad enough. What I did next was absolutely chilling.

I swam in a lake.

I…

I’m getting rid of my dad’s car.

On its face, getting rid of a car sounds easy. Trade it in. Maybe give it…

In the wake of Top Gun: Maverick, my marriage was the 1961 Ferrari 250GT convertible at the end of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off – dented…

What should we talk about this week? The guy dressed like Michael Jackson – single glove and all – I pass on the way to tutoring? My…