
She is thirteen years old. Do you remember, being that age? Do you remember how alien your body felt? Do you remember how you thought everybody was looking at you? Judging you? Talking about you?
Continue reading “The Bullies You Pay to Bully You”She is thirteen years old. Do you remember, being that age? Do you remember how alien your body felt? Do you remember how you thought everybody was looking at you? Judging you? Talking about you?
Continue reading “The Bullies You Pay to Bully You”I remember the first time my mother made lasagne, back in the mid seventies. Continue reading “Looks Can Be Deceiving”
My sister and I often marvel at how age seems to have crept up on us. Continue reading “On Aging”
I live in the country. In the hot summer months, while there are not lot of municipal swimming pools, there are countless swimming holes if you have the time and the patience to go exploring a bit. My husband loves the water and he rarely misses an opportunity to go for a swim. Our dog is an active and enthusiastic participant in every venture. Continue reading “Swimming Hole, Part One”
She looks to about sixty years of age. She is a big woman. Her hair is short; going-on-white; a stylish but no-nonsense cut. She is wearing black tights and a long, body-hugging sweater that sinks in at the waist and flares out to unapologetically hug her ample hips. Continue reading “Woman in Coffee Shop”