Code Name: Lise by Larry Loftis is the true story of Odette Sansom, a woman who went from housewife to WWII’s most highly decorated spy. It reads like a best-selling espionage thriller, and it’s a perfect book for summer.
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Never underestimate the power of a woman behind the wheel — or the impact of a drive down the lane or across the country on her heart and mind.
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There is no better educator in the world than a grandmother with some stories. There is an expectation for women across many cultures to be well-mannered, beautiful, a master of all things domestic, but in varying degrees, somewhat submissive to her husband.
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Recently, I was introduced to Christopher. He and his husband, Heroildo, live in Atlanta with their children. But, before they became parents, they looked around to see what they could expect as gay parents in the South.
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I was 38 or 39 when my first marriage ended. I met my ex-husband when I was 21, so we were together for a long time. Letting go was hard despite our issues. After all, no one wants their marriage to fail.
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You hear the familiar ding of Messenger. You look down and smile with surprise to see the name of someone from high school on your screen. T
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t’s exceptionally tough for us to make a close cluster of friends in new places as we grow older. I know plenty of people who don’t have strong friend bases outside of the friends they knew growing up or those they met through work. But why?
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First off, let me explain: I am not a mathematician. The Tenth Muse is a book about mathematicians and math. Math is almost another character, complete with beauty, emotion, elusiveness, and suspense.
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As the spring semester wound down, many college students found themselves gearing up for their entry into corporate America through summer internships. The pressure is on to make a good impression, make the right connections, and do everything that is needed to secure that offer.
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My husband and I have been talking about starting to try for a baby for years. But the cost of childcare, medical care, diapers, food, and a larger apartment just didn’t mesh with our current salaries. Childcare alone would roughly cost the same as my monthly take-home pay, and we’d already struggled to live on one salary.
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I found the idea intriguing that a member of his family — a clinical psychologist, no less — would write a book providing a psychological assessment of a man that many Americans hate and many other Americans love.
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