Pizza Con Pezzi di Gesso? The Molarity crew should perhaps stick to English…
A heartfelt Christmas wish.
A bus accident, a full ambulance and a new resident. Another day in Haiti.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the 53rd strip in the updated, continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. What is the true meaning of Christmas today?
The men are rolling up their shirt sleeves; the women are putting on sweaters. It’s another winter’s day, another day when our generally agreeable male co-workers can’t agree to the fact that our cube farm is so freaking cold we would be better off working in Siberia.
Photographs by Ansel Adams at the Snite Museum of Art.
“Santo subito! Santo subito!” cried the people in St. Peter’s Square on the death of Pope John Paul II in April of 2005. They were urging “sainthood now.” I remember those exuberant shouts, how they seemed to mourn his death yet celebrate his life. I remember them well because his death had rekindled the memory of a special encounter I had with him.
At least once a day, I sit in a room across from a patient and tell them that the cancer that they have is incurable and will ultimately claim their life.
231. An article from the “News in brief” column notes that the American Motors Company (before it was bought by Chrysler) will stop production of the AMC Pacer. It was a unique wide compact car worth a web search. It was stepping up production of its Eagle Jeep line.…
I think it time to turn Thanksgiving into a real act of thanks giving.
The decision to give my daughter her own cell phone was a big one in our family and I am still conflicted about a 12-year-old having their own phone. After we purchased the plan, bought the phone, and I resigned myself to the decision, I realized that though I thought I was ready, I wasn’t.
A 1965 graduate’s memory of the day JFK died.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the 52nd strip in the updated, continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. What enriching conversation and stimulating debate
comes from social media!
They lined up early in the morning, just as the sun was rising. They awaited the team’s arrival outside the small church constructed of irregular, wooden walls and a tin roof, on benches that usually function as church pews. Far off the paved road, on a path of rocks and dirt carved in the grass by foot traffic, they assembled expectantly.
My children and I spend hours each day driving around their over-scheduled lives. I try to use the time in the car productively. They watch educational videos about light sabers, learn about Barbie and work on conflict resolution. I also try to talk to my kids without yelling, making a directed effort to work on the art of conversation.
226. On Monday, November 5, 1979 the headline in The Observer with this cartoon was “In Tehran Angry Mob Storms USA Embassy.” Americans were now hostages in Iran. Within days, many of our classmates in Rome got phone calls. (International phone calls were rare things in those days.) “Are you OK?” “Do you want to come home?” We were all thinking, “Hey, we are in Rome. We’re fine.” And we were. But the rest of our year abroad in Europe, anti-American sentiment was much more apparent. One classmate even sewed a Canadian flag on his backpack.…
Haiti is more than an earthquake, more than the political dysfunction, more than a series of coup d’états. Haiti possesses a rich tradition of art and music, a mélange of Afro-Caribbean, French and Spanish influences.
I never used to care about being the bad guy. I never cared if my children liked me or not. I assumed they did, even if I was the bad guy. But my older daughter is now in junior high and I’m beginning to sense she doesn’t like me anymore. All of a sudden I care about being the bad guy.
Back when I was an English major and when I thought I might teach, I played a little game. I tried to come up with a list of 10 books I would use to teach students what I wanted them to know about life.
Welcome to Molarity Redux, the 51st strip in the updated, continuing adventures of Jim Mole and friends. Problems with women didn’t end for the Molarity crew at graduation.
Glass blowing and giant cockroaches.
My first helicopter ride might have been my last if the storm was any rougher than anticipated.
I so want to get this right. The breakfast, the lunches, the 20 questions game that I wish he would play with something more appropriate, like a cheetah. I want my older daughter to be kind and generous to a crying little sister, and I so do not want to set a tooth fairy precedent of 20 bucks a tooth.
Should I take off my shoes? I wondered as I opened the rather plain door leading to the Notre Dame Archives, on the sixth floor of the Hesburgh Library. TSA screening was on my mind, since I had recently read the archives’ rules.
Through all the latter days
of her dementia
the only words she knew
by heart were “Thank you”
and “I love you.”
Back in America…
Notre Dame graduates in the news
Deaths of Notre Dame alums
Maybe Tasha Alexander, the pen name of Tasha Gutting Grant ’92, should have been born in the 19th century. You might think so when you consider that the first books she was inspired by, the Little House series, and her present New York Times bestselling success, the Lady Emily series, are both from that slice of time.
Returning to Notre Dame as an employee rather than a student is surreal. It looks like where we went to school, and the students look like our own friends and classmates, but none of them are.