Lord and Lady F***!

Lord and Lady F***!

When my kids were still quite young, probably around kindergarten age, I got tickets to see Brian Ferry. The concert was in the grounds of Petworth House, a 17th-century country house described as “A stately mansion nestled in the South Downs housing the finest art...
Forgotten Anniversaries

Forgotten Anniversaries

These last two weeks I’ve had the nagging feeling that I’ve forgotten someone’s birthday, someone close to me. In other words, a date that should be committed to memory forever and always. But when I go through the list: husband, children, parents, in-laws, nieces,...
Pot Mama

Pot Mama

Pot. Weed. Reefer. Ganja. The Chronic. Marijuana was something that just never really appealed to me in my younger days. Even with the safety of a towel plugged college dorm room door, I could never quite get comfortable with it. It always felt wrong. Dirty. Illegal....
Self-soothing in 2017

Self-soothing in 2017

When I first awake, I am happy, whether sun is streaming in the window or rain is pattering on the roof. But then, as my brain starts to whirl, I remember that a reality TV star who might be mentally ill has the nuclear codes. I ruminate how he is filling his cabinet...
Pledge for a Frantic Activist

Pledge for a Frantic Activist

So I called some senators. I knitted a hat. I’ve marched, signed petitions, and typed a jillion angry emojiis on Facebook. I can’t keep up with the news, real or fake. It all feels like Whack-a-Mole politics. Idioms that used to be metaphoric are now literal: my head...

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