Month: September, 2017

Oh, the Joy!! Part Two: The Junk Drawer

For twenty-seven years I cooked in a kitchen with one drawer. That’s right—one drawer. And, it was quite a narrow drawer. On one side of the counter we had a picnic carrier thingy that held our cutlery. On the other side we had a vessel to hold cooking implements—wooden spoons, spatulas, etc. Propped on the top of the stove was an old black pitcher with still more spoons.

Imagine my joy when I moved into my first post-house apartment and the kitchen had six—SIX—drawers! I couldn’t wait to have a junk drawer. The messier, the better.


Oh, the Joy!! Part 1: The Bookmobile

It’s not like we didn’t have plenty of books in the house; we certainly did. And it’s not like we didn’t go to our public library; we did that, too. Yet there was something magical about the bookmobile. I don’t know if it was because it came to our block or if it was the special tiny space. Whatever it was, I LOVED that thing.

When Miriam and Joe were young our library system tried to revive the bookmobile. I was so excited—much more excited than the kids. I couldn’t wait to go.

Sadly, the bookmobile did not survive.

Voices and Stories

What is the “human condition”?

Sometimes I think it is the recognition that, ultimately, we are alone in the world; in the end, we have only ourselves. Are we always searching for something to counteract that lonely feeling? “The hole”, as it were.

At school we talk a lot about helping our students fine their “voice”. We all want that, don’t we? We want to tell our stories, use our voices, connect with others. Then, perhaps, we know we are alive, we are heard, we matter.

I’m sitting here writing, just a few are listening, but I am, aren’t I?


The Sad, Sad Story

It’s been going on for at least 42 years, maybe longer. I know I was doing it at 16 years old. Tab was my drink back then. I distinctly recall Summer 1981, working at Garvin’s, every day I ate hard-boiled eggs, salad with blue-cheese dressing and Diet Coke.

With lots of digging down into memory I could probably relate every diet I’ve ever been on. Some were formal—Weight Watchers, Atkins, South Beach—others simply involved giving up cookies, chips, ice cream. They all have one thing in common, just like today, “Please, please, please let me lose 20 pounds.”