After traveling, I somehow feel as if I’m still moving. Or that I never left. That I’m expecting to see Hunter and Artemis and Lynn

Can you hear the music? Canadaaa! I’m leaving next Saturday because…. astonishingly enough, little tiny Mischa grew into less tiny Mischa and is about to

When my children were little we were in a car accident. I happened around four o’clock in the afternoon on RT. 93 leaving Boston. There

I’m admittedly in a grumpy mood. Just up the street, the wonderful local tree guys have done the job they were paid to do: cut

When I first met Trum, or after we had gotten to know each other a bit – maybe a year and a half in, I

It’s snowing again. Endlessly. I’m dying again. Or is that dyeing again? I haven’t dyed silk in three years, I believe. I’ve been using fragments

It’s at this time of year – in the dead of winter, buried by snow – that my children start talking about summer. They start

Some things you like to talk about. Other things, not so much. I would say Lyme lands in the second category. But as a child,

Wrong. It’s winter. It’s much warmer than usual. It was just colder than usual. My Lyme hurts now. My Lyme doesn’t hurt now. The nights

I’m thinking of little Mischa, now 8 months old, all bundled up in her winter cocoon which looks like a round baby sleeping bag –