Suprise Me

I remember sitting, almost in disbelief, listening to our favorite songs while watching Simon and Garfunkel who, truth be told, seemed a bit geeky like we were. Read More

Berkshire County can feel like a very sleepy backwater when we have to wait for hours while a bomb squad with a robotic device drives to our rescue along the Mass Pike, all the way from Boston. Read More

The Great Hampton Babysitter Heist  When our son Noah was very young we spent several summers in the Hamptons in a rented house a short drive from both the beach and the town. One summer my husband Danny invited his business colleague Stan to join us for the weekend with his wife Lynn and their… Read More

One of the most remarkable discoveries of my dive into family history is the connection between my mother and a close friend with a secret (from me) history. Read More

"As soon as your brother passes," Cathy said, "you call me up, and I’ll take good care of him." I’d noticed that the hospice people also talked in a matter-of-fact way about his death. “When he passes, you’ll have to do x and y,” they’d say, as if he were going on a two-week vacation. It was strangely comforting, as if this were the natural next step and not something to be dreaded. Read More

Bonfire My father Arthur was born in 1912 in the Catskill town of Liberty NY some years after his parents,  my grandmother Esther and my grandfather Sam,  had emigrated to the States from Ukraine.  (See The Wheat Field)  At first they had settled among other Eastern European Jews in New York’s lower eastside where Sam worked… Read More

I grew up in rural New England and, altho my dad was a scientist who worked in Boston, I spent my school years in a small public school that embraced equal measures of college prep students and shop kids. Many of my friends were the sons and daughters of farmers and mechanics. Out of family… Read More

The temptation that I didn't act on Read More

“You say you want a revolution...we all want to change the world,” sing the Beatles. Read More

Each time I respond to a post, Facebook uses it to categorize and phenotype me, to slice and dice my likes and comments and sell them to the highest bidder. Read More