There was a bakery in St. Paul, or actually Minneapolis, across the street from Lake Calhoun, and the bakery was called Rustica. The bakery portion, where the actual baking took place, abutted the sidewalk and had huge plate glass windows so you could stand outside and watch the breads being moved on wooden paddles, the … Continue reading Coffee Grinders
I am 23, newly married, and my husband is on a research trip in Bermuda for the next six months. I am a young woman alone in our new home in Takoma Park, Maryland, but I feel safe up here in the upstairs apartment of a cute cottage house with a steep, angled roof. The … Continue reading Cutting cloth
The grown-ups stood at the front window sipping spiked coffee and doctored hot cocoa. Our entertainment that day was watching Ed, the mail man, bend into the blizzard as he trudged through thigh deep snow to get to our across-the-street neighbor’s wall-mounted mailbox. All the kids entertained themselves by – well, I don’t remember how … Continue reading The perils of winter birthdays
“November was here, and it frightened her because she knew what it brought – cold upon the valley like a coming death, glacial wind through the cracks between the cabin logs.” – Eowyn Ivey, The Snow Child When we left Florida on November 1, 2009 to make the drive north to Minnesota, our station wagon … Continue reading It was November, and I was afraid
I’m reading Forrest Gump. I haven’t seen the movie since it came out in 1994, and I’ve never read the book, and I haven’t gotten anywhere near the part where Bubba tells Forrest about shrimp: “Shrimp is the fruit of the sea. You can barbecue it, boil it, broil it, bake it, saute it. Dey’s … Continue reading Thanks Forrest. Now I miss seafood.
I stood behind my husband in Minnesota, rubbing his shoulders while he sat at our desk, focused on the screen in front of him. He was transferring all my files from our desktop to the laptop I was to take with me to Virginia. I watched branches sway in the breeze, laden with the heavy … Continue reading In search of the luna moth