The care and feeding of the impossibly small
The odds and sods of this and that
An accounting of my father and his resident alien
An accounting of my folly with fowl
Person rearing for amateurs
The signs of desperation include, but are not limited to, feeding the bun cheesecake for dinner to which he turns up his nose.
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When my husband and I were footloose and fancy-free, we took a belated honeymoon to Italy. It was several years after we were married but no less sweet, and we embraced all the pleasures Italia …
I concluded my little holiday book (which people will receive in lieu of those traitorous fruits) with this footnote:
I have seen my Drunken Cherries through to their conclusion, and there’s been no step which hasn’t …
When you’re in the gymnasium during “Career Day” take a closer look. Things are different these days.
The same folding tables and chairs with earnest recruiters from the Fire Department and Police Department are still there, …
I was raised proper, by which I mean a proper appreciation of language in all its splendor. Our family did not exclusively fawn over the most flashy words, nor the most humble. We took delight in using descriptors of all stripes, including those reserved for the bawdy house.
We have five chickens, all of them completely impractical birds. There’s one whopper and four midgets, smaller but less destructive as a result. Not from any lack of trying, though.
Gigi is the foster mother of …
It was about the time that I began critiquing the fashion choices of our fellow passengers in the Long Beach Airport that I realized I may have reached my limit for what the brain could …
We rediscovered our favorite chicken place on the opposite side of town from where it had been a few years earlier. Sayulita is magical like that–things open and close, move with no warning, change and …
I know you all are way beyond “winners” and “losers” in the baby roulette, but I figure that I’m a person that finishes things, so here goes.
Special, extra warm thanks to for compiling the …
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