« Previous Entries

September 2009

The Archives

• food

  “Jim never has a second cup of coffee at home”

  09.29.09 | Permalink | 18 Comments

  At our inaugural Sew Day I darned and hemmed, and altered Mr. Bennet’s dress pants. (I won’t say which way I took them.) Mom and I shared the comfortable confidences that women have long shared over needles and thread. (I’ll remind you here that I refused to learn to sew when I had the chance [...]

• navel-gazing

  Layers

  09.28.09 | Permalink | 11 Comments

  When I was eight I had bad hair. It almost reaches my shoulders, pointing out but not flipping up, in the family picture we have from that time. A picture my dad isn’t in, because (as I remember it), Mom got tired waiting for him to be available for pictures. (Dad was in the Navy [...]

• Family

  Love of my life

  09.28.09 | Permalink | 3 Comments

  Sometimes I would like to think that I have Tourette’s Syndrome, because the things that come out of my mouth when I am tired or hungry or cranky are shocking, or would be, if my poor family were not already inured to the sound of the f-word exploding from my lips. If I felt I [...]

• daughters

  My daughter, herself

  09.25.09 | Permalink | 44 Comments

  The other night I was helping Sally with her homework. I am fundamentally opposed to homework for elementary school kids, but Sally, age 8, third grade, feels better if she does it. So I help her with it. And some of it isn’t bad; it’s games for her to play with a parent, or a [...]

• outings

  Magnets, Design Squad, and Thanksgiving Point

  09.24.09 | Permalink | 2 Comments

  Susan came home from preschool the other day bubbling over about the magical magnet at school, the one that moved ALL BY ITSELF on the top of the table. I asked gently if her teacher had been moving a magnet underneath the table as well. She thought for a second, thinking back, and then her [...]

• daughters

  Does it matter?

  09.24.09 | Permalink | 6 Comments

  A couple weeks ago, Sally rushed into the house with a roar of MOM that was half-way between mad and hurt. At least it sounded mad a bit, but turned out to be all hurt, and a baby cub’s aggressive appeal for comfort. She had fallen off her bike on the way home from school [...]

• goals

  Maybe if I could make music with my legs

  09.22.09 | Permalink | 5 Comments

  The wide walking and biking trails in our town are littered with crickets in summer. On family bike rides, Sally squeals each time she almost runs over one, which leads to a lot of squealing. Worse than riding over one, though, is having one fly up in a panic and ping your leg or arm [...]

« Previous Entries