I heard it could be done, but never had proof until this week.
In fact, I never really tried until my little grandson broke his leg.
But when a grandson with a smile that turns stone into molten lava gets hurt, what else can a far-away grandmother (known in his world as Grammy Pammy) do?
So yes, I sneak down to the dark corner of my basement, where I hide the thick ancient texts on “cooking magic” and “baking love,” the texts that my family know nothing about. Continue reading
No one ever told me that hands become gnarly after too much time in the sun.
My hands are as gnarly as the bark on an old oak tree.
But, at least they’re sun-kissed – the color of a beige antique car.
My hands soar when a story strives to alight from my funny, surprising brain, a brain that is awash with jangled memories and silly jokes, serious worries and spurts of light-filled love. Continue reading
“I luuuv your hair,” my daughter’s friend says to me. “You’re so lucky to have so much of it. And the color and natural highlights! Just luscious.”
Luscious? First of all, who calls an over-50-year-old’s hair, luscious? Only another woman, of course, and at 30-something, a rather naïve woman.
(I note, by the way, that her hair is teenage blonde, straight and long, pulled into a perky ponytail as she shuttles her kids form soccer to ballet to gymnastics.)
But I digress. Continue reading
Is it possible to have a perfect bun?
What? Oh, you think I’m talking about a bun, as in a person’s buttocks.
Nooooo.
And I’m not talking about a delicious round bread roll, despite the fact that there are several left over from the Thanksgiving meal.
Continue reading
I’m from New Jersey, no
Not really. I mean, geographically
NJ and DE and MA and CA –
Yes, but my heart, my soul?
I’m from a deep deep unseen place
That began in the bottomless sea, Continue reading
roughwighting 