My mother made things: clothes, vegetables, furniture, houses, enemies. As a product of the depression, she was frugal to a fault. As absolutely annoying as this was, sometimes it was comedy gold. I grew up in the 1960s, a decade which, in and of itself, is fairly amusing. I was…
Category: mothers
Mothers, Gratitude, Regret, and Wishful Thinking
Tomorrow on our cul-de-sac we’ll be celebrating Thanksgiving. A 24-pound turkey, Al, will not be thawed by tomorrow. Dinner may be late for our small gathering this year of 15. I am thankful to have a warm, welcoming home for 15 people to sit down together and laugh more than…
Neighbors For Good
I see a world where we continually define ourselves by the way in which we are divided. Our family moved to Chandler, Arizona from Los Angeles 18 years ago. We found a nice house we could almost afford in a safe neighborhood. My husband and I had two small daughters…
Well-Intentioned Poster Child
A circa 1880’s poster with a picture of a can-can dancer in the midst of a high kick hung above my white-canopied bed, on the green checked wallpapered walls of my girlhood bedroom. Every night, in the hours spent dreaming, these words hung over my head: Come See Karen Suzanne Can-Can Dancer…
How to Sit
Okay, I’ll sit in this chair and hold you while you nuzzle my neck and suck your thumb. Even though it’s 5:30 in the afternoon and I really should do the breakfast dishes before I start making dinner. Even though I just made you the greatest fort beneath the kitchen…