Baby Grand My father was a self-taught classical pianist and throughout my childhood the sounds of his music rang through our house.  And in my mind’s eye I can still see him sitting at the baby grand playing a piece by Chopin or Beethoven.  (See Moonlight Sonata) That baby grand followed my folks from the house… Read More

The Duck Pond My parents,  lifelong New Yorkers, would escape the city’s summer heat for vacations in the mountains –  in New York’s Catskills or New England’s Berkshires. Yet as they got older it was the winter cold that drove them out of the city.   And like many east coasters,  Florida became a desired… Read More

The Gift of the Marzipan Magi Our friend John’s parents,  like my husband Danny’s,  fled Europe in the late 1930s as the Nazi horror was unfolding.  John’s folks went first to Shanghai,  and then on to the States,  where a few months later John was born. (“I was made in China.”  he’ll tell you.) During… Read More

Princess Summerfall Winterspring (Not exactly a “four seasons” story,  but I plead poetic license!) I’m sure generations younger than mine find it hard to believe many of us had no TV in our early years.  In fact my family was the last on our Bronx block to get one.  And so every weeknight at 5:30… Read More

Post Office Philosopher  Recently two of my out-of-town friends had birthdays and as both are serious readers I thought they’d enjoy a good book I’d just read. So I bought two more copies,  wrapped each for mailing,  and headed to the post office where I found John my favorite postal guy behind the counter, “I’ll… Read More

Catskill Farm Memories My father was born on a farm that bordered a small lake in the Catskill town of Liberty,  NY.  Years later his folks added an addition to what had been their farmhouse and began taking in boarders who came up from the city seeking the country air.   And eventually my grandparents… Read More

Ethel and the Turkey Leg  Since my friend Ethel died recently at the age of 85,  I’ve been thinking about what made her such a special soul. Ethel and I met in the 1980s at Jane Addams,  the South Bronx vocational high school where she taught cosmetology and I ran the school library.   Like… Read More

Shot Glass Ever wonder who buys those shot glasses sold in tacky souvenir shops?  I confess I do,  and have quite a collection. I’m not sure when I began collecting shot glasses,   but probably on a vacation when looking for a souvenir of the trip,  or a gift for the cat-sitter.  In any case… Read More

Rowboat When I was young my grandmother ran a small hotel on a lake in the Catskills,  and I’ve written  before about the idyllic summers I spent there with my family.  (See My Heart Remembers My Grandmother’s Hotel,  My Game Mother, Hotel Kittens,  The Cat and the Forshpeiz,  Playing with Fire, and The Troubadour) One happy memory of… Read More

A Cup of Tea in Ireland Twice I travelled to Dublin to study at the James Joyce Summer School.  There we students were housed in a novice nun’s residency while the young women themselves were on summer break,  and yes,  you guessed it,  my husband told everyone he’d sent me to a nunnery!   (See My… Read More