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Given the national despair over election ugliness and the ever-worsening pandemic, I’ve tried to steer clear of both topics recently.
A few months ago, I wrote two columns regaling my readers with stories about how my older son, Rory, managed to terrorize me repeatedly by re-enacting scenes from horror movies he’d been allowed to watch at his father’s.
What is it with men, anyway? No, don’t even try to answer that.
If it’s fall in La Jolla, there are spider webs everywhere.
It’s been my observation over 11 years and nearly 400 columns that I always get the most response when I write about dogs or my husband, Olof.
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My sons have teased me for years that I’ve spent my life “rehearsing for death.”
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I have a love-hate relationship with CVS Pharmacy — love for the incredibly overworked, friendly, helpful staff members who work behind the counter, and hate for CVS corporate, which seems to think up more and more invasive, annoying and profit-making plans under the appearance of caring for my health.
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Over the nearly 12 years I’ve been writing “Let Inga Tell You,” the many trees on my property have been an ongoing topic.
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It’s commonly known that we often don’t appreciate what we have until we don’t have it.
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Last week I wrote about my son Rory’s penchant for re-enacting scenes from horror movies with the objective of scaring the bejesus out of his (adoptive) mother and younger brother.
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All parents I know would agree that they would sacrifice their lives in a heartbeat to save their child.
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After 13 frustrating years, San Diego seems poised to adopt short-term vacation rental regulations.
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Peter John Meno is being held in county jail. The crash early Sunday left two passengers in his car dead.
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Letters to the editor: La Jolla is ever-changing — and that’s a good thing In reading last week’s La Jolla Light, I was intrigued that the published letters all seemed to be part of a larger theme: opinions about what kind of future we should have in La Jolla.
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Kelly Dodd, life enrichment director at La Jolla retirement community Casa de Mañana, said her job means enlivening routines for the 200 residents there — “a lot of the fun stuff.”
One advantage of writing a local newspaper column is that you get the opportunity to connect with people you’d otherwise never meet.
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Welcome to Auntie Inga’s Geriatric Curmudgeon Hour, pandemic version.
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Anyone who has been reading my column for a while knows that I’m a sucker for those internet articles about how to make yourself look 20 pounds thinner (Photoshop?)
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It occurred to me that one of the difficulties in these coronaviral times is that even people we think of as kindred souls have very different levels of comfort as to how much social distancing and disinfecting they require. It would be nice if there were a scale that would give people a score that they could just pass on to their friends and relatives so you wouldn’t have to go through this whole laborious “we’re doing this but we’re not doing that” dialog. As my contribution to pandemic living, I have created one.
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I recently recounted the saga of the untimely crumping of our stove in March during a time when neither repair people nor appliance installers would set foot into your home because of the coronavirus.
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February 2020 almost seems like a lifetime ago.
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I have to confess that I wasn’t initially all that worried about the coronavirus.
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A common question that I hear people pose is: “What’s going to be the new ‘normal’”?
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Our dog, Lily, is definitely an emotional-support animal, even if she doesn’t have a diploma.
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Pandemics have always been a part of my family story.
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Last year, I wrote about my husband, Olof, taking up sourdough bread making as a retirement project.
