Category: The Old Days

On Not Celebrating Halloween

This will be the Year Without Jack-o-Lanterns. For religious reasons (not our own), Colin and I will be taking a hiatus from Halloween this year. “If [we] believe fully in the omnipotence of God, then concern about witches, ghosts and goblins, and things that go bump in the night, is misplaced. It is God alone…

Inside the Bell Tower

I took this photo in May of 2007, which of course seems like about two weeks ago. We’ve been in this small state for almost two and half years and I see how time gets compressed–I’ve erased the afternoons and the mornings and the evenings and all that remains is the back and forth motion…

On Finding Things Lost…

(… Things Which Did Not Know They Were Missing) An old friend found his way back to me tonight. I’ve sent him a note to say hello in the old fashioned way. I’ve emailed him. I wish I could have said that I used something a bit more archaically romantic– postcard or handwritten letter, but…

What’s on My Desk Right Now

Since the recent addition to our life, every single flat surface has been overtaken with objects foreign, plastic and otherwise unnecessary to the progression of life as we’d known it. Or so I thought. However, small packages come with many bizarre and seemingly useless accessories, not the least of which are naked, anatomically-incorrect bald babies…

Making Snickerdoodles

We volunteered to make snacks for our friend’s free concert and I enlisted the very enthusiastic help of three eager assistants. I love to bake– pretty much in inverse proportion to how much I do not like cooking. I think it has something to do with the outcome. I see food on the table as…

Stories Told

Why I Love The Moth When I was about seven or eight years old, I got fixated on the idea of creating a neighborhood newspaper. I would gather stories, write them, publish them using my parent’s typewriter, and deliver them to my neighbors’ mailboxes. So I did. I went around interviewing my family, and Mr.…

Taking Care of Scraped Knees

Or, The Case of My Dad and Neosporin I’d like to say, for the record, that I always thought it was weird that Neosporin had the word “spore” in the middle of it. That might have been, partly, why I always liked it. I also know that I liked it because my Dad was totally…