Category: family
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Wood Smoke & S’mores…& Frog Legs.
My brother took our nephew camping not too far from Shelburne Falls this weekend, to a campground where we spent most of the summers of our childhood, so we went to visit them on Saturday. Vincent went out on a canoe, splashed around in the lake, toasted marshmallows for s’mores (which he then spit out,…
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Fathers.
With any luck, I hope to have my computer issues resolved within a few days. Also, presales of my chapbook are supposed to begin at the end of this week, so stay tuned for the big announcement! * The NPR program “On Point” featured “The Making of Sonnets” in its second hour today. Read during…
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The bells are ringing…
I love Gene Kelly. I have absolutely everything he’s ever done on VHS, even the really obscure stuff, some where he doesn’t dance, is only the host/narrator, like the video of a production of “Swan Lake”. Did you know he was in an animated musical version of “Jack and the Beanstalk”? Not great, but if…
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Milestones.
Vincent turned three on Saturday, so I baked him a cake. From scratch. You’ll note I have not posted a picture of said cake. Oh, it tasted quite wonderful, actually, chocolate cake with chocolate frosting, and Vincent adored it. Which was a big relief, because it looked like crap. I wish I was joking. Because…
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Momentary Calm.
Last Sunday I got further than I’ve ever managed on the NYT Sunday crossword puzzle, primarily because I spent the day working on it as I huffed through contractions, unable to concentrate on anything beyond the Sunday paper. This Sunday, I’ve haven’t had the time to read more than a section or two of the…
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An era ends.
Today, after 71 years in business, the Jeffery Amherst Bookshop closed its doors to the public for the final time. And while I’m sad that Amherst has lost my favorite bookstore & that I’m shortly to be unemployed (there’s still a fair amount of work to be done, just no bookselling), that my next son…
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“Good job, Mommy!”
My life day to day was lived through ordinary actions and powerful emotions. But the more ordinary, actual, the more intense the day I lived. The more I lifted a child, conscious of nothing but the sweetness of a child’s skin, or the light behind an apple tree, or rain on slates, the more language…
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Luck of the Little.
…barely a scrape! Can you even see it? Being a parent means unrelenting barely suppressed panic, a latent cancer ready to metastasize at the least provocation. Because awful things happen, all the time. Most of us, as much as we fear it, will never have our kid snatched. Nope, the prosaic is the real danger.…
Marie Gauthier 