(circa 1980) An original life is unexplored territory. You don’t get there by taking a taxi— You get there by carrying a canoe. –Alan Alda The Canada series starts in LaGuardia airport in New York, with my mother running after the camp director, yelling at his flanneled back, “Make sure my daughter takes her medicine!” … Continue reading Big, Blue Duffel: Intro to the Canada Series
Circa ’77
Swim Lesson
I jumped out of the car and ran across the driveway, my sandaled feet slipping over the loose gravel. My Great Aunt Dotsie was taking down her stiff towels from the line. My Uncle Tommy was already counting for hamburgers and hotdogs, pretending not to see my younger sisters. The tiny yard smelled of charcoal … Continue reading Swim Lesson
A Ghost Story
It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single ghost in possession of a haunted house must be in want of a scare. Block Island is the black sheep of the northeast Atlantic. I grew up going there two weeks every summer with family and cousins. Leaving it after the two weeks gave my heart … Continue reading A Ghost Story
Jilda, the Dancing Nude
Our backyard was big enough. It offered thick grass, a vegetable garden with chicken wire and a stack of firewood against the clubhouse. In the corner of the backyard sat a picnic table that sank into the soil on one end, a dog pen for John Doe and a tree stump with mint. As we … Continue reading Jilda, the Dancing Nude
The Mean Lady
I walked inside the rhododendron bush that was two stories high, planted years ago by the hunchback, the first person to live in our blue Ardsley house. We could walk in to this rhododendron bush as if it were a room. I sat on the “horse,” the long branch with a saddle seat curve that … Continue reading The Mean Lady
Circa 77 