by Leisa A. Hammett | May 18, 2014 | All The Rest of Life, Midlife and Beyond, Spirituality
Wow. Cleaning out the garage, Saturday, provided an opportunity to relish in seldom listened to Saturday NPR programming. Bob Edwards did a round up of the best graduation speeches ever. You'll be glad you took the time to listen to this. Turn it on while cooking...
by Leisa A. Hammett | May 11, 2014 | Autism/Disability, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood, Spirituality, Travel
Blush. My daughter, Grace, turns 20 in one month. And Easter weekend was the first time the two of us ever took off on our own together. Not for a winding interstate trip through the mountains to our South Carolina family. Just us two on an adventure, the destination,...
by Leisa A. Hammett | May 5, 2014 | Art, Nashville!, Spirituality
Printer's Alley will never be the same, wrote a friend when she shared on Facebook the tweet by NewsChannel 5 anchor Chris Cannon. Of course, when Sam, known at "The Sushi Nazi" of Sam's Sushi–on Church Street around the corner from...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Apr 24, 2014 | Art, Autism/Disability, Grief & Loss, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood, Nashville!, Spirituality, Technology/Blogging
This post was scheduled to publish on Monday but did not until today, Thursday, because my blog's PLATFORM, Typepad, was attacked. (Meaning anyone who uses Typepad to host their blog heard crickets for about five days. Nada. It nothing personal to me, but...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Apr 8, 2014 | Art, Autism/Disability, Midlife and Beyond, Motherhood, Nashville!, Spirituality, Technology/Blogging
Promise you this: You're gonna laugh. You're gonna cry. And you're gonna be really, really sorry if you miss Nashville's Sat., April 26, 7PM TPAC Polk Theater premiere of "Listen to Your Mother." Nashville was one of 32 cities, nationwide,...
by Leisa A. Hammett | Mar 17, 2014 | All The Rest of Life, Nature, Spirituality
He perched there. On my porch. Bulging-bellied lil' feller. His coif an iridescent blue. His body beneath his stunning wings, a downy warm, grey, winter white and dramatic strokes of tuxedo black. Mr. Bluejay. Why had he graced my breakfast window view? Native...
