Monthly Archives: April 2014


This year, I seem to have given up.  The ice is gone, the temperatures are rising, but the grass is still flat from pounds of winter snow.  Dead.  The crocuses bloomed and died under another snowfall; they lie in unpretty … Continue reading

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When an author describes a house, I almost always superimpose the description on one of the stock houses of my imagination—the house I grew up in, my grandparents’ house, or a neighbor’s house where I spent a lot of time … Continue reading

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The Queen Elizabeth

A few weeks after the death of their first child at three months, my parents packed up a truck and drove from Cambridge, Massachusetts to Chapel Hill, North Carolina. My father was about to begin his first job as a … Continue reading

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Paul Boy

In my grandparents’ dining room hung a large painting of a young person with long golden curls. It looked like a girl to me, and I was shocked when told it was a portrait of my grandfather. I was the … Continue reading

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O is for the 17th Earl of Oxford, the man who wrote the Shakespeare plays, also known as Edward de Vere. Vere is the Latin root for the word “truth,” a concept that gets much play in the sonnets, along … Continue reading

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Not an important part of the house

The back entry is cramped and haphazard, a bent coat rack pushed in under high cupboards, an old bureau with drawers that won’t open full of mittens, scarves and unused kitchen utensils. A worn door mat fills most of the … Continue reading

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A girl in a room reading a book on a rainy day. I have a clear vision of this, the girl in a checked dress with puffed sleeves, dark brown hair with enough curl to curve at her shoulders, dark … Continue reading

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