A Holiday Fairytale, Part Two
When Greta stepped through the blanket door, she gasped in amazement. The chalet was bursting with charm. A fire blazed in the hearth. A…
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Essays on books, the writing life, small-town water, and the strange business of being a person. New notes land on the newsletter first.
When Greta stepped through the blanket door, she gasped in amazement. The chalet was bursting with charm. A fire blazed in the hearth. A…
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Illustration by Ainsley Cutter Author’s note: Inspired by my daughter who has been reading re-worked fairytales by young adult author Marissa Meyer, I decided…
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First, there has to be classical music. I was raised to believe that no cooking or baking happens in a quiet kitchen. When cooking…
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It is fall. Tatum. Pretty. Slight. Angular. Shy. She carries her infant in her arms, her two older girls trailing behind. My infant girl,…
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10:00 I hoped to miss the early rush and sneak in and out unscathed. The parking lot tells me my hopes are stupid. I…
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I skid my bike to a stop, whacking the kickstand down as I simultaneously dismount. I step under the shady bough, the smell…
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I am hiding the evidence, one bite at a time. A few weeks ago, I started with the chocolates. Then the peanut butter bites.…
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I’ve made it. Somehow I’ve made it to practice. My mother and I have just returned from visiting my sister in Madrid. The eight-and-a-half-hour…
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