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Christmas, 1940.
Because Christmas falls on a Wednesday this particular year, the boy wakes on Monday without any particular plans. On Sunday they had done their Sunday things – church and lunch at Nana’s house. On...
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Happy.
After her fifth or sixth miscarriage, my mother, resigned to the reality that a baby might not be in the cards, went with my father to the animal shelter and came home with a puppy. Without much debate...
View ArticleSomething recycled.
(Originally posted with the title, "The Moon Is Like China," on August 23, 2014. The version below is a revision and, therefore, quite a bit different from the original.) One day, at some point in our...
View ArticleSomething about sewing.
"Home," as Jimmy Carter wrote, in a piece for The Bitter Southerner, "is a complicated idea." I've been sewing in the mornings, sitting in my chair by the window, sipping coffee and stitching in the...
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