Truly, madly, and a bit guilty, I sit on one of my favorite benches and ponder the fates and furies that have followed me over the year.
Although I faithfully follow a life of joy, I’m nobody’s fool. Some days give me heartburn, as if I’ve just swallowed vinegar. Some days I wonder if god is in ruins, even when the nights are tender. Sometimes I feel like a distinguished guest in my own home, but then, suddenly…. Continue reading
Many years ago I dated a guy who loved the ballet.
Not any ballet, though.
Specifically, the Nutcracker.
I thought he was rather nuts.
Not that I had anything against the ballet. At the time, I liked it in principle: incredibly ‘fit’ people in tights and leotards and sometimes sequins performing astonishing leaps and bounds.
But then on our fifth date, this man took me to see a performance of the wooden implement that turns into a prince. My date hummed along to every symphonic number, much to my amazement. Turns out, this was his sixth year of attending the December extravaganza.
I was kinda deciding I liked this guy, but really….a grown man enjoying a kid’s ballet every Christmas? Continue reading
“Mom’s hospital stay wasn’t covered?” I ask, trying to not sound as disturbed as I feel.
“No, that’s not what I said,” my brother replies, raising his voice during our blue-toothed conversation. “The hospital didn’t think she was covered.”
“How could they possibly think that?” I protest from the driver’s seat of my car. “We’ve only filled out dozens of forms in the past year with all that information.”
I hear Chuck’s groan, hundreds of miles away. He’s in Maryland driving home from work. I’m racing in my car in New England on the way to teach an evening class.
“Toll Booth in ½ mile,”
an alien-sounding female voice intones loudly from Chuck’s car, just as he says, “…called (garble garble) insurance (garble garble) card!” Continue reading
Funny, how conflicted a person can feel about success.
And there’s the rub. What IS success, and what is not?
That is what I’m thinking at 5:30 a.m. as I take in a deep breath, smell the essence of my tropical green tea, look outside my window and glory in the darkness and the early morning moon shining through my window.
This, this is my success. Continue reading
Last Saturday I participated in a “Shop Local” Book Fair at a beautiful picturesque library in rural New England.
Twenty other authors and I sat behind tables covered with colorful cloths and plants, candy in dishes and strong stubborn wishes that visitors would want to buy and read our books.
Photo: AP
As a writer, I wanted to hide behind the stacks of library books behind me. But as an author, I stood tall and smiled tremulously, feeling like Sally Field before she got her Oscar, thinking “Please Like Me (my books), really really Like Me (my books).” Continue reading
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