The STUFF Sisters
S. Sloane Simmons and Casey Simmons
Sisters and business partners sharing life's stuff....
Several days ago, while walking through the living room on my way to my bedroom, something caught my eye. New art in the living room …
A well-appointed home makes room for painter’s tape and Scotch tape.
My husband and I have lived in our historic home for over twenty-five years. We have started and completed many projects, with and without help. Early in our time here, we did most of the work ourselves. Plaster repair, painting, wall-to-wall carpet removal, flooring repair. We have light skills in electrical and plumbing. Continue reading “Classy”
SHARE THIS: 
We had already seen one snake slither across our path, which we were sticking diligently to as the map at the trailhead had prescribed.
When I got to the top of the hill, I turned to him and said, “We are the people that you read about in the paper. You know that, right?” I threw the word “paper” in for dramatic effect, knowing full well that most of us, sadly, read news on small screens.
The day was simply gorgeous in the Flint Hills. Big round clouds in crisp blue skies. Of course the hills were green with all the rain. Flowers were blooming at all heights within the tall grass. We were past the hottest part of the day, but it was not cool at 93-degrees.
Continue reading “Stupidest Humans”
SHARE THIS: 
I am finding it harder to get through a day without finding the absolute magic that this amazing Earth puts in front of me.
“I’ll bet you took pictures of the plants and stuff. What about the art?”
Parents. They know too much.
SHARE THIS: 
As he told his new oncologist, who smiled, “I already have an incurable lymphoma, what’s one more?” Humor. It’s what Simmonses do. In times of happy and times of sad. We laugh.
I sat there idling in the fast food line, knowing I had felt this way before. I jetted over the guilt of ordering – and, in time, eating – this comfort food with my sister from the burger joint that has been here since our childhoods. Child’s play on the list of emotions I was trying to wrestle.
Strangely, I was feeling that things were settled for just a moment. I dug deeply, and, when I landed on where I had experienced this feeling before, I smiled. Continue reading “Having Been Here Before”
SHARE THIS: 
They always made the day about loving everyone, not just your lover.
My parents taught us to love Valentine’s Day. And I do.
When my mom got flowers from Ed’s Dainty Corsages on 31st and Cherry from our dad, the three little tow-headed blondes who had climbed into the back seat for the adventure to midtown got single roses wrapped in waxy paper and tied with a curling ribbon bow.
Continue reading “Learned Behavior”
SHARE THIS: 
I visited museums. This is never a hardship for me. I delight in wandering through and wondering at what is placed in front of me.
Every winter, my hands suffer. My dear friend, Susan, always surprises me at some point in the chilly season with yet another balm that will make all the breakage end, the cuts heal, and the dryness disappear. I use it religiously, and still I cannot be mistaken for a hand model.
SHARE THIS: 
“Arctic air is not to be trifled with.” His words when I asked about the slightly grimy cardboard after I sighted it the first time. I was in my early twenties.
My grandmother and grandfather lived in two homes during my childhood that I vividly remember. Both had carports, which as a child I found mesmerizing. Our old homes in the big city did not have these “modern” features. Low brick walls and a slick concrete floor defined the second and last carport.
In the heat of summer and on breezy days, they could be known to park the car further back in the driveway and not under the carport. This signaled that part of the evening would be spent in aluminum-framed folding chairs with the plastic webbing reforming our thighs.
Continue reading “Cold Air & A Voice”
SHARE THIS: 
The weight of the world must be terribly heavy. In the Arctic and here at home.
Just a few days ago, I stood in an energized crowd and kicked off the year that includes the 31st annual AIDS Walk Kansas City. A cold January night in an overheated room made me almost believe spring would come and we would all be in Theis Park walking and talking and celebrating.
Continue reading “Weight Of The World”
SHARE THIS: 
My son was raised with The Stones. When the Disney CDs in the car became too much for me to bear …
Several years ago, I sat next to my son in a huge stadium under a midnight blue sky. The Rolling Stones rolled over me. I tapped, I sang, I swayed, I stood, I sat. I might have cried. It was a form of church, and I was delighted with this amazing birthday gift from a friend. Me, my son, and my husband, together for one night in one place with pretty much my favorite band. It was near perfection.
Continue reading “Ladies and Gentlemen, The Rolling Stones…”
SHARE THIS: 
I wasn’t looking at them. I was looking at the beauty that was placed before me and was mine to find.
I am continually accused of being an optimist. And I am, so I take no offense. I can see silver linings and lessons learned where others see train wrecks and doom. Lemons vs. lemonade.
SHARE THIS: 
