O’ Christmas Tree(s)

O’ Christmas Tree(s)

When I married my hunky Jewish husband, he had no idea I was such a Christmas-head.   We’ve had our holiday issues. Said hunk wasn’t that into my Christmas tree. In fact, not at all, bless him.   But as our years together seasoned, my tree collecting...
To Pie or Not To Pie

To Pie or Not To Pie

Yes, yes. First— it was the pandemic. Then the long summer with nowhere to go. Certainly, the kids never departing the house for school added to the extra cinnamon roll or seven. So, I radicalized myself. I stopped eating anything with flour or sugar. You got it. The...
Dressed To Kill

Dressed To Kill

My mother hated Halloween. We never understood why. It started in July when the costume catalogues arrived. Mom would tap the page of a benign Snow White or fireman, wary but hopeful. We would balk at her simple dreams.   My sister chose Mickey Mouse one year. But her...
Speed Aging

Speed Aging

All I want to do is be a grandmother. I’ve got my name picked out: Nana. It’s not original but it’s comfy. I have nineteen bins of children’s books ready for reading to littles on my lap. But it’ll be a while before grandmother status. My kid is only twelve. Most of...
The Breakup

The Breakup

Summer is winding down, so this past week I sat down with myself for a good long chat. It wasn’t hard. I was, after all, available. But because this was going to be a formal chat, I made myself consult the paper calendar and booked a time. Monday morning looked good....
OK Is the New Great

OK Is the New Great

July is made for watering holes. My favorite is the Blue Hole in Wimberley. Over the years, I’ve forgiven the state for requiring an entry reservation. I remind myself it’s a privilege, slipping into silky green water so cold it makes you believe summer is, in fact,...
Dad Directions

Dad Directions

Summer came with a driver’s license the year I turned sixteen. Thrilling, full of freedom. I hit the road. Unfortunately, I’d never paid attention to directions. We didn’t have Google. or GPS, I had my dad. He charted paths to the moon for NASA. The guy was a human...
A (Private) Room of One’s Own

A (Private) Room of One’s Own

If you’re like me, sequestered inside your home, chances are high that privacy is at a premium. Our bathroom was always a popular hideout, even before the pandemic, boasting its reputation as the “only locking door on site.” But with growing suspicions around national...
Natural Tendencies

Natural Tendencies

One of the great things about motherhood is giving in. I gave into “Long Arm Parenting” when my kids were little. I’d make up games I could perform without leaving the couch. I’d scoot them back and forth in a laundry basket, risking tennis elbow, but it was worth it....
Art and Feet

Art and Feet

My friend Jenny used to say the minute she walked into a museum her feet would start hurting. I thought this was hilarious until we walked into the Houston Museum of Fine Arts Impressionists exhibit. “My feet hurt,” my daughter said. I exhaled. I’d read The Conscious...
The Mysterious Mr. Stover

The Mysterious Mr. Stover

It’s February, the month we find ourselves knee-deep in chocolate. My favorite is the assorted box. As a kid, my dad once surprised my mother with a three-foot wide box of chocolates for Valentine’s Day. It had been a particularly bad January. A house full of head...
Low-Bar Living

Low-Bar Living

I love New Year’s Eve. It’s the one holiday we spend without extended family. I get to cook which, I know, sounds cuckoo-loco. But coming from a big family, where my sole job includes remembering the paper napkins, it feels luxurious. The kids and I watch New Yorkers...
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