I remember her laugh. That mirthful, contagious laughter which often caused her eyes to well up with tears as she relayed one of her many tales. She loved a funny story. Some days I drive slowly down Catbrier Lane, past her old house. It holds new owners now, people I have never known. Her familyContinue reading “Amazing Grace”
Category Archives: Beauty
Magic Drinks
For my father…
The Marvelous, Mystical Cure of a Bath
What is your favorite hobby or pastime? “There must be quite a few things that a hot bath won’t cure, but I don’t know many of them.” Sylvia Plath I am addicted to baths. It began in my childhood, at what age I cannot say for certain. I can envision myself and my two sisters bobbingContinue reading “The Marvelous, Mystical Cure of a Bath”
Lee and Joanne
I first encountered her while doing laundry one afternoon, wordlessly, robotically, tending to our clothes. She taking them out of the dryer and me, placing them in. I can still recall that subterranean, no frills room, whose stark walls and dismal atmosphere would make the perfect backdrop for an Alfred Hitchcock horror film. That was,Continue reading “Lee and Joanne”
Finding Mary
A visit to a cherished next door neighbor, fifty years later, revealed a surprising revelation; you can go home again…
The Galetti Guest House
We sit together miserably, my sister and I, on the sofa of our NYC apartment. Though close in proximity we make sure to stay at least a foot apart, not daring to chance brushing up against each other, even for a split second. The sweltering heat, still villainous at 10 PM, permeates every nook andContinue reading “The Galetti Guest House”
In Search of Picasso
You didn’t say anything about a nude model!” my sister whispered to me, her hushed voice a mixture of both shock and delight. It was the very first night of Sculpting. , a Continuing Education course offered at the local high school, a stone’s throw from our Stuyvesant Town, NYC apartment. I always loved the idea ofContinue reading “In Search of Picasso”
On the road, The Wild Atlantic Way
Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so, on the road…Jack Kerouac
Achill Island
A perfect February day on Achill Island, County Mayo Ireland
Autumn in Connecticut
“Come little leaves,” said the wind one day, “Come to the meadows with me and play. Put on your dresses of red and gold; For summer is past and the days grow cold.” George Cooper https://lingeringvisions.wordpress.com/2022/10/06/festival-of-leaves-2022-week-3-framed-by-the-dogwood/
