by Debra Darvick | Sep 28, 2008 | Writing Life
Yesterday a green VW convertible pulled out of a driveway in front of me. I peered ahead. Gray hair, narrow face. Yep. Elmore. As in Leonard. The novelist. He lives on an adjacent block. We are separated by three houses. Occasionally we cross paths on early morning...
by Debra Darvick | Sep 21, 2008 | Musings
The Comcast guy left after two hours of fiddling with dishes, cables, remotes and transmission boxes. The new American Dream — High Definition TV — is now installed on the new TV. The old TV died right after my husband gave it a kinna hurra (a Yiddish...
by Debra Darvick | Sep 15, 2008 | Writing Life
Some writer buddies and I were discussing the word “blog.” A derivative of “web log,” it’s such an inelegant word. Short. Heavy. Blog rhymes with other short, heavy, inelegant words: bog, flog, hog, clog. (OK, I’ll give you dog and...
by Debra Darvick | Sep 9, 2008 | Seasons
Every time I close the arched cobalt blue door behind me and enter Cranbrook’s Sunken Garden my breath catches in my throat. It is just so beautiful. I volunteer in the garden (nearly) weekly during the summer, digging and planting, weeding and uprooting. I return...
by Debra Darvick | Sep 4, 2008 | Musings
It wasn’t the felony charges that got to me, or the perjury. Or the text messages to his girlfriend and his assault of a police officer. It wasn’t even the lawsuit that cost the city of Detroit nine million dollars. These were topics of months-long ongoing news. No,...
