My special holiday calendar, the one I date from Halloween to New Year's Eve, doesn't have any parties posted on it.
My traditional wedding anniversary card for my husband, Fred, is almost finished. Its completion comes just two weeks before we hope to start our 43rd year of married life.
My husband Fred's latest foray into computer-based entrepreneurship was such a losing effort I think it should be his last.
My younger son recently completed a house-sitting, pet-feeding stint for a couple of 60-something friends who traveled out of town.
My love/hate relationship with summer has me feeling schizophrenic these days. I'm simply more even-tempered in other seasons, my moods far less mercurial.
My saliva soon may be the springboard to uncovering some family history, maybe even some dark family secrets.
My nephew recently turned 27, and when I read over the note I'd written on his birthday card, it really made me feel like a fossil.
My love/hate relationship with technology had, of late, been leaning heavily on the latter side.
My latest computer hassle has left me railing against random hackers and reeling in embarrassment over my own electronic ignorance.
My husband, Fred, recently brought me a list he’d found on the supermarket floor. He said the handwriting resembled mine and he knew that I, a list-dependent shopper, would need my notes to keep me on task.
Even as a number of strong women make mighty strides on the national political scene, my own modest nod to feminism occurred two weeks ago when I was tapped to be an usher in a church not particularly known for its gender parity.
My first month as the daycare provider for my granddaughter has ended and, so far, she appears unscathed.
My husband, Fred, is gearing up for a big fraternity reunion in Florida this fall. I’m supposed to help him draft a recap of the past 40 years for the function-planning Web site and then to oblige as designated driver during the brotherhood’s four-day bacchanalia.
My recent exit from the work force has caused me to become more creative about finances. With a fixed monthly income near zero, I’ve had to modify my spending-and-earning mindset as though I were altering clothes after a significant weight shift.
My granddaughter Charlotte’s recent arrival has made me marvel that my own children managed to reach adulthood, deprived as they were of so much modern equipment and parental expertise.
My first month of retirement sneaked past me like an expiration date on a cottage-cheese carton.
As a Realtor with a keen eye for investment property, Wanda Vogt had helped her daughter restore a Highland Park home when the historic neighborhood was just beginning its 1990s renaissance.
Jan GallettaMy Life: 50s My husband aims to retire next month, and I'm bracing for a big transition in our married life. Fred has worked for the same employer 37 years, a special-education job he took two weeks after we got married and left
My older son and daughter-in-law recently moved five doors down from my husband, Fred, and me.
Jan GallettaMy Life at 58 My older son and daughter-in-law recently moved five doors down from my husband, Fred, and me. Now, I'm torn between ecstasy at their proximity and the apprehension of knowing that the senior Gallettas will surely make
Brown v. Board decision in 1954 led to racially mixed schools nationally Area schools reflect Chattanooga’s population, but diversity remains a challenge
Fifty years after the nation’s highest court gave a black fifth-grader permission to attend a white school in her Topeka, Kan., neighborhood, officials of Hamilton County’s public schools say they still are trying to achieve more racial diversity in local classrooms.