This may seem disjointed; that's simply the way things are. My friend Harriet, the Harriet who is very much alive, is a quilter. She sews the most beautiful quilts (and other things, too) and has the best sewing adventures to tell, stories I would share except that they are hers and not mine. I mention … Continue reading The living and the dead.
I am wearing a set of devices that I affectionately, without a trace of affection, call SPANX for teeth. If you are a man then this reference is possibly lost on you, though I suspect if you are one of the regulars here then you are the sort of man who has a woman friend … Continue reading A story in a suitcase.
The third thing she told me was that life begins at 50. She said this just to me, out of earshot from my traveling companion, as she was tucking me back into the driver's seat, right before she said, "I love you," which is what she always said at the end. We had been together … Continue reading Life begins at 50.
If there is a dish more emblematic of my cooking story than cheese soufflé, I can't think what it would be. By now you've heard this tale, or bits of it, many times: my mother, who trained herself first by watching and later by reading, trained me to cook by virtue of the fact that … Continue reading Inhale, exhale.
What began with The Shining, released on Memorial Day weekend, ended, a week after Labor Day, with Ordinary People. In between were Caddyshack, The Blue Lagoon, Airplane!, Brubaker, Urban Cowboy and He Knows You're Alone. It was the summer of Luke and Laura, of Funkytown, Magic and Sailing. The United States led a 65-country boycott … Continue reading Summer 1980.
Here's how I knew we were going to the beach and not to my grandparents' house at Hardy: when we turned from our street and drove past the Howard Johnson's (where we went to get ice cream), we turned and drove up a ramp, past the billboard picture of the girl with the dog tugging … Continue reading destin-ation.
"Women - particularly Southern women - can't really come into their voices until they lose their mothers," a writer friend said to me recently over lunch. This particular friend, who also was around 40 when she lost her mother and with whom I often discuss mothers and mothering, is the same friend who said, "you … Continue reading Materfamilias.
At one point in her life my mother would have introduced herself as a musician who also had good writing skills. She had a considerable talent for music - primarily the piano although also, as she might have said, an adequate soprano choir voice. Her musical gift, nurtured and encouraged by her father, was evident … Continue reading The Writer’s Daughter.