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”
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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”
Finding Mary
A visit to a cherished next door neighbor, fifty years later, revealed a surprising revelation; you can go home again…
Memories of a Popover Girl
What jobs have you had? My father always instilled a strong work ethic in me and my three sisters. I never lacked for a job whether it be putting on a marionette show for a birthday party when I was twelve or waitressing at Rosie O’Grady’s in New York City during college break. My fourteen year old son recentlyContinue reading “Memories of a Popover Girl”
On the Road Again, A Mother’s Day Tribute
My beautiful mother, to know her was to love her. To drive with her, well…
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”
On the road, The Wild Atlantic Way
Nothing behind me, everything ahead of me, as is ever so, on the road…Jack Kerouac
Fallen Leaves
Fall leaves fall, die flowers away, Lengthen night and shorten day, Every leaf speaks bliss to me, Fluttering from the Autumn tree… Emily Jane Bronte
Ode to a Pheasant
“See! from the brake the whirring pheasant springs, And mounts exulting on triumphant wings” Alexander Pope Quotes , Source: Windsor Forest (l. 111) I cannot say for certain when I first made his acquaintance or tell you the exact day he stole my heart. We had just moved to a small town in Connecticut fromContinue reading “Ode to a Pheasant”
Shangri-La 