Suprise Me

Art Imitates Life I don’t remember my mother Jessie saying  “When life gives you lemons,  make lemonade.”  but it certainly was her modus vivendi.  (See My Game Mother) Coming of age during the depression in New York’s Far Rockaway,  my mother’s parents were necessarily frugal.   But although money was tight,  her lawyer-father was able… Read More

Miss Stanhope was my Miss Chips. Read More

Grampa’s hands      Grampa had sparkly brown eyes that simply shone when he told stories about his postal delivery days, or launched into a dramatic recitation of a favorite poem. He had a full head of hair that he kept neatly trimmed, and he dressed as dapper gentle men of his day did-  never… Read More

My maternal grandparents met, married and had their first two children in Bialystock, (Imperial) Russia (after the first world war, part of Poland) at the turn of the 20th century. They survived the pogroms (race riots promulgated against Jews) in 1906, hidden by Christian neighbors and fled to the United States with their babies in… Read More

All I can safely say is… no one was killed. Read More

Whatever high-pitched motor was driving me faded to a kind of thrum--something like my heartbeat.  Read More

We had no details. Television? None in the house.  Radio?  I can’t recall.  And really, why should it be covered 24/7 in Botswana?  When you read about a disaster on the other side of the world, how many details do you hear?   Internet?  Smartphone? This was 1989.  Read More

It’s the Age of Aquarius, a 60s party, get your flower power on ... Read More

I liked the old fisherman from the beginning.  He sits comfortably on a body-contoured stump, exuding patience and serenity, lightly holding his fishing pole.  His jug is alongside (maybe for fish storage, maybe for refreshment). He wears leather strapped sandals, a broad sun hat, and a flowing green and blue robe.  His white beard and hair suggest the wisdom of age. He is contemplative, certainly in no hurry.  He may be surprised that his serenity has been interrupted by the arrival of the fish.  Read More

Okay, I admit it. I’ve always been a lousy speller. Though one might not expect this from a straight A student, it is true. I can’t account for it. Perhaps it has to do with lack of ability to visualize abstractions in my head. I don’t know; it just is true. In fifth grade  (the… Read More