We have become the people we ran away from. At least, I ran. Morbid thought after visiting Chicago this weekend from the wedding of my cousin’s daughter. [cousin on Mom’s side] All of us together looking like the ghosts of our parents — but in a good way. I am always surprised to find family Continue reading Become


The firewood was always freshly stacked in its brass bin by the fireplace in the den each winter afternoon. When I was little, I would try to carve this wood with the blade of the letter opener that sat with its matching pair of scissors and note pad by the telephone in the bar. This Continue reading Firewood