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.

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

As a girl growing up in a neighborhood of Quincy, Massachusetts called Squantum, my mother watched her grandfather, Thomas ‘Grampie’ Murch, sew up a hole in his galoshes. This was pretty much impossible to do, she said, as the overshoes were made of thick rubber. Still, her very frugal grandparent “made do” by repairing rather… Continue Reading Make it do. Do without.

The longest-lasting rainbow was recorded in Taipei, Taiwan on November 30, 2017.  Scientific observers tracked it for 9 hours.  The previous record, I believe was for 3 hours in Wales.  Hmm.  But if a tree falls in the woods and no one hears it?  There are probably longer lasting rainbow – just unobserved. Here’s what… Continue Reading Attitude opens the aperture

Horrifying… revenge.  The epigraph to ‘Anna Karenina’ – a book I read every few years – is biblical and equally unnerving:  Vengeance is mine, I will repay. (Romans 12:19)   Revenge is so intimate.  Think of the bully whose face you see in your nightmare – up close and reprehensible.  Fear, loathing and, of course,… Continue Reading Racoon revenge