Janet Sheridan
Recent stories
- Janet Sheridan: Mind-spinning questions
- June 13, 2013
- I sighed, scowled and fidgeted as the problem I needed to solve stomped around in my head, trailing a mob of what-ifs.
- Janet Sheridan: Remembering Ernie
- May 30, 2013
- Each year, the optimistic, abundant personality of spring reminds me of a friend of mine who had those same traits.
- Janet Sheridan: Mars and Venus shop
- May 17, 2013
- A pervasive joke about the shopping tendencies of men and women alleges that a man will pay $2 for a $1 item he wants, while a woman will pay $1 for a $2 item she doesn’t want.
- Janet Sheridan: A less painful place
- May 2, 2013
- My siblings and I have become the older generation that used to look on fondly as we organized games and chased after children. We are the old folks who go to bed early so we can get up with the sun, while our descendants reminisce and laugh late into the night.
- Janet Sheridan: Admitting ineptitude
- April 18, 2013
- I’m baffled by technology. Bamboozled. I don’t instinctively know how to navigate new sites. I’m unable to perceive the function and relationship of every command, icon and arrow.
- Janet Sheridan: The games we played
- April 4, 2013
- As a principal, I enjoyed playground duty.
- Janet Sheridan: Colorado byways
- March 8, 2013
- During a lunch conversation about sharing winter roads in Colorado with whipping winds, blinding snow, tire-spinning ice and fellow travelers driving like idiots, a friend said that when road conditions are bad, she counts the miles until she can exit the freeway and its massed, slow-moving cars interspersed with crazed drivers intent on passing.
- Janet Sheridan: Stamped in my bones
- February 21, 2013
- Aunt Mary delivered me home, then settled in for a visit with Mom while my cousins played with Bob and Barbara. Unnoticed, I sneaked away to see if anything had changed during my extended absence. First, I looked for our creaky cat and found her as alive and irritable as ever. Next, I climbed a cottonwood and inched along a sturdy branch to see if anyone had defaced the initials “JB” I had gouged into the tree’s bark on my 8th birthday. They were untouched.
- Janet Sheridan: A valentine for children
- February 7, 2013
- Joel and I collapsed into our seats on a crowded airplane, sleep deprived from raucous nights in a bedroom with joke-telling, wrestling grandchildren and half-sick from accompanying them down every slide at an indoor water park—over and over and over—in recycled waters enjoyed by a multitude of users. The plane felt like a snug, safe refuge as it carried us to our home and quiet lives. Two weeks later we began planning our next trip to see the youngsters who had exhausted us. How do children manage to tie up one’s heartstrings so easily and completely?
- Janet Sheridan: My resolution for the New Year
- January 10, 2013
- There’s a chance that going public with my intended change for 2013 will shame me into keeping it, so here it is: I am going to stop talking about my medical issues with anyone who will listen, even though doing so will be more painful for me than my recently developed plantar fasciitis—I love clucking away with friends and family about the latest indignity imposed on me by my body. I first noticed an upswing in my interest in discussing bunions and bursitis a few years ago when I stood in a circle of men and women at party and thought, “I used to run from conversations like this.”
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