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The Weight of Fashion, and Other Delusions

We all have problems that we know, someday when courage permits, must be faced. Could today be the day that I am tough enough? Maybe I can’t really do this myself. Should I summon professional help? It is time to excavate the interior…
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On Enterprising Memories

School roared back into session just a few weeks ago, and like night follows day, it’s already here. It’s FUNDRAISING SEASON! And thus arrived my first opportunity to serve as the sales target of an earnest and highly focused six-year-old. It…
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Onward, Sister Resister

Nicknames show up in funny ways.  Some may spring from characters in music, books, or movies, but others, perhaps, from the times in which we live. I’m pretty sure that’s the case for the moniker that recently came to mind for my…
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Polishing Off the Perfect Peach

There could be enthralling cartoons rolling merrily on the screen, there might even be fierce artistic fervor unfolding, there may be arguing, even shoving, with battle lines being negotiated .    Just about any attention-grabber the…
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All Families are Funny, Sometimes: G-ma’s Readers Write

G-ma was delighted when a couple of recent installments of the Chronicles inspired readers to recall some of their own favorite family lore.  Even better, they wrote and shared their memories and bestowed permission to pass them on.  Over…
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Summer’s Lament

I knew it would be like this when you returned.  It’s always been this way. The signs are there, omnipresent as the dawn, in the mirror, out the window, in the sky if I dare look up. You arrive early, and arrogantly linger later…
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The Invincible MM

A few years back, a well-intentioned therapist probing my history for signposts tried to steer me down the Mother Track.  It must be routine and fruitful territory in her line of work.  It was high on her list of questions, and she seemed…
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Growing old, together

An alluring spring dawn had announced itself through the slats in the window blinds long before we raised our heads from the pillows simultaneously and locked eyes.  No words were exchanged, but the message was clear.  Keats would have…
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Blood, Memories and Time Travel

At six and four, Buddy and Sis are old enough now to enjoy the occasional overnight visit at my house.  These visits linger in memory with certain central “themes”.  Oh, yes, I might think, looking back, that’s the time we made peanut…
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