Well… There is something idyllic about a dog and mud. This is a brief reflection on the white mini-schnauzer named Pixie who adored transforming herself into a barely-recognizable blob. And my husband Kevin & I enjoyed her enthusiasm with this most basic befoulment. Of course, not the aftermath of bathing and splattering, but her serene… Continue Reading Dirt and the Schnauzer
Such a confusingly funny sentence, right? My husband, Kevin, heard this in Woonsocket, RI – the northernmost Rhode Island city once known for its population of French Canadian immigrants. (It’s the headquarters of the American-French Genealogical Society.) The syntax reflects a language preconditioning. I say ‘preconditioning’ because – at the moment – I can’t think… Continue Reading Throw me down the stairs, my shoes.
I’ve noticed a lot of stubborness lately. If you think that compromise is dead, you’re probably right. We are fixated on being right and, more importantly, for these others – the ‘not us’ – as being wrong. TBH, I lose track of who is correct and what they’re correct about! And if you’re wrong with… Continue Reading Stubbornly So…
The Pleiades? A cluster of stars in the constellation Taurus. To Sluice? To wash or rinse with a stream of water. A Herculean task for sure. And an appropriate one when I think of Mark Doren Rea. I met my ex-husband, the late Mark D. Rea, while attending BU School of Theology in 1978. Mentioning… Continue Reading He’d sluice the Pleiades
This memoir is being written long after my babyhood. It would have to be, wouldn’t it? My language and writing skills took many years to develop. Here are some memories from the dawn days of my arrival, when I first began to notice that I was me and not dangling toys above my crib or… Continue Reading A Baby’s Memoir
I can only say that if you’re meant to meet, you’re meant to meet. This was a meeting at sea. No, not the existential “being at sea” kind as in feeling forlorn. This was the real, rolling, ocean-type sea. Nothing in sight but sky, clouds and waves. You’re in a 22-foot fishing boat named “Up… Continue Reading Pigeon Rescue At Sea
This is a story of remarkably small proportions. Of steadfastness and intermittent joy. Of people who should never have met. Of memories that slipped away from view since they were of no particular significance to the world. This is the brief story of my parents, Helen & Hal, first meeting. The black & white photo… Continue Reading Of Steadfastness & Intermittent Joy
Dear Molly-dog, I want to tell you about my recent escape but needed to have time at my jailer’s laptop. It’s great that these new models have bark-to-text features. Otherwise, I’m all paws. We went to visit our treat-giving neighbors, Lyle & Carol, last Sunday – if I remember the day. You know, Molly-dog, days… Continue Reading ‘My Escape’ by Happy the dog
I believe in taking time to open and close tubes of lipstick with my mother-in-law, Annie, while going through things to close up her apartment. I knew that this singular moment would stay with me until I’m closing up my own life. My husband’s mother was 89 at the time and she’d fallen after her… Continue Reading Taking Time
My friend Helen Burke, a great poet whom I’ve known for almost ten years, sent me her poem, “Cutting Up Suits.” Here are the opening lines: We sense she is tad upset when We get back from the pub And find she is cutting up his suits. Also, his record collection of 30 years Smashed… Continue Reading It will be alright