Jennifer Brown

This week I wrote about, of all things, my out-of-control lawn dilemmas:

I’m a master at a lot of things. Master-whiner. Master-sleeper. Master-cake-eater. But I will never claim to be anyone’s master gardener.

My flowerbed features such beauties as “A plant so easy, even you couldn’t kill it, Jennifer,” “That thing that doesn’t need watering,” and “Something somewhat greenish that came with the house.” As far as I’m concerned, Horticulture is a really awesome underground enviro-friendly alternative rock band in Portland. (“Please welcome to the outdoor stage, ladies and gentlemen, Tofu Turner and the Horticultures!”) READ MORE..

And I got serious about what I did wrong last year when my baby went to kindergarten:

Looking back on the last year, I think it's safe for me to say I was depressed. Not the can't-get-out-of-bed kind of depressed, but the gained-40lbs.-and-don't-have-anything-positive-to-say kind of depressed (see future blog titled "How I Single-Handedly Killed my Kids' School Spirit With My Incessant Griping").

It was supposed to be My Year, you know? My baby had gone off to kindergarten. I had freedom again for the first time in nearly a decade. I had been waiting for this moment to go back to work for a long, long time. And I actually had work to go back to (Hey! My book was published one year ago TODAY! Cool!). READ MORE...