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Linda Henry

Thatwhich

Elementary, my dear

May 31, 2012
1st grader, Golfview Elementary
In the way that happens when you move back to the town you grew up in, I ended up at the elementary school where I started. It’s not an elementary school anymore, but an “alternative learning center.” I went to a meeting there with my daughter.

When I was a kid, the school parking lot overlooked the water plant. (An odd concept to me now: there was a factory where water was produced?) The most exciting news that could pass through the corridors was “Fight between Randy S. and so-and-so. Meet at the water plant after school.” Read More 
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It was a different time.

May 16, 2012
My high school doesn’t exist anymore, at least not in name. The building still exists, which is a good thing, since my eldest is graduating from there in June. But the place where I earned my high school diploma is gone.

Maybe it’s just as well. It’s the people that matter,  Read More 
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The Five-Year Plan

April 23, 2012
“Where do you see yourself in five years?”

I’ve always hated that question. In my illustrious career—and even in the not-so-illustrious parts of it—it’s been posed to me all too frequently. I’ve never been able to come up with an answer, never even had one in my head that I didn’t dare say. Ok, at one very specific point on the trajectory, the answer would have been “Not in hotel management,” but that was only because I was working in hotel management between stints at college. And that was only because I didn’t know what I wanted to be when I grew up.  Read More 
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Man's best friend request

April 20, 2012
Tags: Churchy, turtle
It’s happened to me twice on Facebook, so I’m guessing it’s happened to everyone at least once: the friend request from a dog. In reality, it’s from the dog’s owner or “human,” as the dog refers to him or her. But wait. We all know it’s the actual friend, the dog owner, who pretends the dog calls its owner “my human.” I know, I sound harsh. A dog is not an it, and cannot be owned. As when you accept a friend request from a non-human, I ask you to accept my premise, at least for the duration of this blog entry. Read More 
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Friday's child has to work for a living

April 13, 2012
Maybe Ann Romney has worked a day in her life, but I’m with Hilary Rosen: “She’s never dealt with the kinds of economic issues that a majority of women in this country are facing, in terms of how do we feed our kids, how do we send them to school, and why do we worry about their future.”

Mrs. Romney might have single-handedly raised her kids and kept the mansions all spiffy and clean, Read More 
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No, you go first. I insist.

March 27, 2012
Tags: House of Mercy
This passive-aggressive driving has got to stop. And if it arrives to my right at a four-way stop, it must go. It’s the law. I live in a suburb, where under the guise of Minnesota Nice, my fellow drivers are driving me crazy. Just this evening, I came to a four-way stop. I was making a left turn. The driver opposite me, who arrived at the intersection at the exact same time, was going straight. He made the international gesture for “No, you go”—a sweep of the hand pointing me in the direction I was turning, as if I didn’t know.  Read More 
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Spring break for turtles

March 24, 2012
Tags: Churchy, turtle
Stalking the wild anaconda
We were gone for a few days, leaving Churchy the turtle to fend for himself. In the days before our trip, temperatures were unseasonably warm. We gave Churchy’s terrarium wide berth, lest he wake from hibernation. We closed doors quietly and spoke in hushed tones. The previous week, Churchy had awakened and Keith put him in the garden. But by early evening, Churchy was already burrowing into the ground. I found him by the fence, half covered with dry, brown grass. He’d been glad to go back inside, or what I take to be gladness in a turtle.  Read More 
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When the planets stop by for coffee

March 13, 2012
Venus and Jupiter shine like huge stars in the sky tonight, but I am not impressed. Sam pointed them out to me as we stood in the driveway.

“The last time we saw them this close was when we lived up north,” he said. I was pleased he remembered, since it was so long ago. Then again, how could he forget? He was only 5, but Sam was really into the solar system at that time. Every day he drew a picture of it, each planet to scale and in its appropriate position to the sun.  Read More 
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Fighting words

March 4, 2012
Choose your words carefully.
Remember that scene in Silkwood where Meryl Streep’s character has been exposed to plutonium and has to take a rather intense shower in order to decontaminate? I feel like I need a Silkwood shower after my exposure to the outrageous bullying by a conservative radio talk-show person who shall not be named. I’ve read op-eds, blogs, and participated in several Facebook conversations about the bellicose host’s ridiculous rants. And none of it has been at all cathartic. It’s terrifying to think that just because I have ovaries, some who lacks ovaries will call me names for taking control of my own health decisions. They’re not just shameless about it; under the guise of family values or entertainment, they proudly broadcast their insults.

So here’s my Silkwood shower. I’m going back to the way it was a week ago, to a more innocent time, when the words and phrases that annoyed or amused me were things like “at the end of the day” or the incorrect use of “myriad.” Read More 
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Damage control for the soul

February 18, 2012
I embraced the whole forgiveness thing back in the 1990s, when I was a freelance writer for women’s magazines and watched a lot of Oprah. The theory goes that forgiveness enables us to work through our anger to a point of near-compassion for the person we are forgiving, which is the  Read More 
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