“You’ll never have to wash another pair of panties in your life,” he quipped. Scott, my husband of 12 years was settling into our patio glider, glass of chenin blanc in hand.
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One could reasonably describe my family as two things: matriarchal and food people. And by food people, I don’t mean, “OMG, my family are such foodies! My sister makes a mean quiche Lorraine…”
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I was about three-quarters of the way through my first basic girls’ night skinny margarita when the woman sitting to my right, a friend of mine for several years, uttered seven words I doubt I’ll ever forget.
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An insufferable hippie, I’ve never liked the idea of all the plastic packaging waste tampons produce or their shady chemical contents…
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In our Woman to Woman feature, two women share their take on a particular topic. This month it’s being emotional — something women through the ages have been talk they’re being…
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