I was the girl who could climb trees and outrun boys. Dusk made me invincible, as if I were running faster than I actually was, so I loved to play games like Manhunt when the light was fading and I could tear across a stranger's lawn or an empty golf course. So, in Canada, when … Continue reading The Surprise
Santa’s Here
Santa just drove by our house. I was changing my daughter's diaper, and I happened to look out the window and there he was, in all his red and white glory, riding silently and slowly passed on an antique fire truck. I stared, diaper in hand. Being 34, a mother, a writer, a wife, a … Continue reading Santa’s Here
Dressing
We were trying to figure out what time it was by the position of the sun. One person had a watch. “3:30!” I called out. We paddled in a group today instead of a long line. Eva and I were miraculously keeping up and the red canoes had formed a pod, talking, laughing. “2 o’clock!” … Continue reading Dressing
Stolen Lunch
The food was heavy on the back, light in stomach. We were ten 13-year-olds and two counselors aged 16 and 17. We were without cell phone, RN on duty, sunscreen, supervision. We were alone, canoeing across miles of deep Canadian lakes. I was the girl with the appetite of a man. I was always hungry, … Continue reading Stolen Lunch
Bigfoot
I grew up under the roof of Yonkers-Irish idiom, which included a touch of Yiddish. Other sayings were made up entirely. “I called that man and gave him what for.” “People want to hear you play the piano! Where’s your hutzpah?” “What’do you want? An egg in your beer?” “See you on the campus!” In … Continue reading Bigfoot
Circa 77 