Author: Erin O'Mara

The thick blanket of snow glitters under a nearly full moon and the stars are poking through the navy sky. I love picking out the dippers.

It’s so cold in my house that I’m doing something I’m sure no woman in the history of the world has ever done. I’m wishing for a hot flash. Of course, when I need to turn my temperature regulation on its head, my hormones are stubborn and stable.

The Roaring ’20s were sparkling and romantic, a whirl of dancing and joy, resting atop a foundation of wealth inequality, crime and corruption. Industry had boomed. Technology was changing everything.

I’m disingenuous about New Year’s resolutions, so I quit making them a long time ago. In the very moment I’d vow to lose weight, exercise more, cook nutritious meals with joy, and somehow be a better person, generally or specifically, my inner voice mocked my earnest intentions and I knew I’d never follow through.

Santa is exceptionally talented at being Santa. There are people in the world who aren’t good at their jobs, don’t love their careers and even ignore their callings.