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A story about the time I lost my home…

Sometimes there is crying after crossfit, but never before. But as I walked into the back stuff-dumping room of my box (Crossfit’s name for their gyms) the other day, there was a small gathering of women consoling one of our crying friends. “Shari, I need to tell you...

May 22nd and Moving On

We piled in my suburban, Mini Pearl (yes, I name my vehicles). The “last back” was down, and from where two of my children sat in the middle bench to the hatch, was filled like a Jenga puzzle with suitcases, house plants, blankets, cleaning supplies, and one of our...