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Friends for Life, or Not
Winter this year is not whimsical. It’s two-foot deep hard packed snow, now turned icy. It’s temperatures that dip, and stay, in the teens. And it’s an economy tipped heavily toward unemployment....
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Bringing Home the Peeps
Driving along Rt 119, I passed this sign outside our local Agway. It immediately sent me back to days of spring rides home from Agway, on the broad backseat of the family car, balancing what looked...
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Brakes for Rein’s Reubens
Do you ever drive the I-84 north-south corridor? Then you have to know about Rein’s Deli. No? I grew up just two towns over from this gem but it didn’t take on must-do status until I found myself...
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Chop and Roll
I found myself caught in a marathon of Chopped, a cooking reality show. As a writer, reality shows are anathema. I want a carefully crafted story and dialog that zings. Chopped appeals to me because...
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Give Me Bread and Bodhrans
Forget corned beef and “Danny Boy.” For me it’s brown bread and bodhrans. The first time I heard a bodhran (pronounced bow, like cow, run), I was a young teenager. My Aunt Mary had brought me to a...
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The Blessing of Corn
August, skin burning hot, beach needy days when crops are bursting with treasures. I’m biased because I’m August born, but I like to think I’d feel the same, no matter my birthday. I grew up in a...
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I Didn’t Inhale
When President Bill Clinton famously said that he smoked pot, “but didn’t inhale,” I thought finally! Except this baby boomer was a couple, or many, steps behind Bill. I didn’t smoke. I didn’t drop...
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Four Things Remembered
I am just returned from London. Ealing, to be precise. It’s on the western side of the city and made famous by numerous things, including Ealing Studios. But also, my reason to care: my daughter, her...
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Time On My Side
Not entirely true. I’m in the second half of my life. Children pleasantly grown. A grandchild who does occupy a larger than imagined space in my heart. And as of this week, a rescue dog who needs us...
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My Friend, February
The only great thing about February, in addition of course to it being Black History Month, is that it is not January. For those of us in New England, January was cruel. Gray. Damp. Unfriendly. On the...
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