Mama Picasso Couldn’t Have Been Prouder

    “Not a word,” I said to the women when my daughter and I walked into the exercise studio.  Emma, three-years-old at the time, was dressed in her favorite red boots, a white faux fur sweater, and a net tutu sewn with fairy bells no bigger than her fingernails....

Is Fritter the New Twitter?

Leaving this morning for daughter Emma’s senior art show. Who’s excited? Who’s proud? Will share it all with you next week. Just read Lev Grossman’s piece about Facebook. Perfect. According to him I’m cool because I’m not on it. Was...

One Glass, Two Glass; Red Glass, Blue Glass

The  vase sat on the curb outside Elmore Leonard’s house  glowing like a ruby in the waning afternoon sun. Nestled amidst flattened cardboard boxes, recycled newspapers and a trash can or two, the vase was destined for the landfill, her sassy shape soon to be...

Facing Down the Doom & Gloom

It’s pouring, it’s raining, might winter finally be waning? No complaints about the rain from this corner.  Better than snow.  Way better than snow.  It’s been cold and damp but there was something delightful about waking up up  yesterday morning to...