Sometimes you just have to reach for that box of shiny new colors.
Now, more than ever, I needed to go home to Mother.
Fun with Dick and Jane followed: a secular version of worldly wisdom with pages splashed in pictures of apple-cheeked children under blue skies. I devoured my lessons, turning them over in my mind before I fell asleep at night, wondering which ones held the key to family harmony.
I turned sixty-six last week and thought, “With what I know now, I wish I’d been there for my twenty-year-old self.” Could I go back in time, I imagine our conversation would go something like this: (Twenty-year-old me) So, you’re me in 46 years, eh? (Sixty-six-year-old me) Yep I can almost see me in you. […]
Nineteen days into voluntary isolation, I reach to the back of the freezer for some ginger and discover two bags of sweet pepper, one green, and one red. It’s Christmas! Like many trapped in this stagnant lull, I have put on some weight. The more I focus on making do, the faster I eat down […]