My sister and I might not have a relationship you can write a great story about, but I bet we'd both read that book! Read More

I remember the fact that I wasn't chosen to give a speech at my own graduation through the lens of my mother's indignation. Read More

The point of all this sad history is to reflect on what happened this weekend, when my 20-year old son asked me to help him with his ballot, and I said "sure." Read More

Camping was fun when I was a kid. Fire was exciting and extinguished too soon. Read More

Faith takes the form of Easter hats, nursing uniforms, Bach and carrot soup. Read More

A story about a boy, his grandmother, and a boat. Read More

My mom loves to tell a certain set of stories about me over and over. This is one of them: on my first day of first grade I came home from school and drew a diagram of the classroom. My mother already knew I was the smartest kid in California, but this was honest to… Read More

I grew up in a three-story apartment building in Palo Alto, California – a rectangular concrete building that still stands at the corner of Grant Avenue and Ash Street. Today, that part of town is crammed full of chic restaurants and expensive condos, but in the 1960s and 70s it was just a little neighborhood, tucked into a… Read More

Grammy Brown taught me how to file my fingernails with an emery board. She made peach pie. She always smelled just a tiny bit sweet, just a tiny bit cinnamony, just a tiny bit powdery. If soft had a smell, it was Estee Lauder. Read More

Sensory images congealing into a poem about my Grandmother's Maine Read More