We lived near the bottom of a long hill, a hill that kept going forever. From the top of the hill came stories, evasions, mysteries that were never solved. I would sometimes look up the hill and wonder. Our own house was embedded into the hill. We sledded down our side yard in winter, mowed … Continue reading The Hill
fire truck
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
The Hill
We lived near the bottom of a long hill, a hill that kept going forever. From the top of the hill came stories, evasions, mysteries that were never solved. I would sometimes look up the hill and wonder. Our own house was embedded into the hill. We sledded down our side yard in winter, mowed … Continue reading The Hill
Circa 77 