I was walking past the dumpster at the soon-to-open middle school yesterday when a small white tightly folded wad of paper caught my eye. I reached down, unfolded the piece of notebook paper– the kind with shredded edges on the long side –and on it was tell-tale preteen girl handwriting. Big fat circles over the ‘I’s and all. Having probably spent the summer stuck at the bottom of the bin now being readied for the school year, it contained one sentence. Find out if he likes me.
Continue
Month: August 2016
Loading Zone
Another Great Move-In cranks up in Boston this week. Fifteen U-hauls on every two-block stretch. I have no choice while I am stuck in traffic but to watch the parade and think.
Continue
Sorry, M’am
There comes a time in a woman’s life when people start calling her M’am. My time has come. I am okay with it. I’ve earned it. But I still wince and look over my shoulder to see if my grandmother is behind me. Continue
Thank You, 99
I was putting money into a parking meter the other day and had to enter the parking space number into the electronic kiosk. 007. Just the sight of those numbers gives me the same delicious sense of danger and excitement it did when I had this under my bed in 1965. Continue
Saving
I have a piece of furniture that once belonged to my Nana. I believe it is called a secretary. It is vertical, has two doors which open to reveal shelves, and a drop-down writing desk. It is not of good quality or design. And, as the unfortunate result of a wood bleaching technique that was very popular in the 1940s, it is a particularly hideous color best described as Moldy Light Rye Bread. Continue