Waiting at what appeared to be the shortest line at the supermarket, I began to wonder what was taking so long. Then I noticed the clerk was confined to a wheelchair and he was wearing thick yellow rubber gloves, the kind I wear for scrubbing pots. He appeared to struggle, just to push the buttonsContinue reading “Why We May Not Be Safe”
As much as I try to stay grounded and practical, trying to recycle already purchased goods, it is still fun to spend money.
Like the young hero going on a quest, I’m about to undertake what is called in the literary world, “The Hero’s Journey.” It’s scary.
Crammed between art catalogues and magazines on the bookcase in our living room sat a battered clothbound book during my childhood. Titled, The Combined Louis Untermeyer edition of Modern British and Modern American poetry, it belonged to my mother. Her scribbled notes in faint pencil decorated the margins and each time she’d pull it outContinue reading “Poetry, Writing, and Mother’s Day”
I’m a Margaret Atwood fan and an Elizabeth Moss fan, so although it is now safe to freely move about our small city of Annapolis, at night I’ve been watching season four of The Handmaid’s Tale. Seasons 1, 2, and 3 on the streaming service Hulu, got me through the tense months that led up toContinue reading “May Day and The Handmaid’s Tale”