It is 8:00 am on a Sunday morning in the Garonne Valley of France. I lie in bed drinking coffee and listening to overlapping church bells, some from the village up the hill, other from across the river. The birds, swallows and mourning doves, are...
When Hate Turns to Love–After the March
I am just back from the Women’s March in Washington DC, glowing, energized, and trying to evaluate why the occasion felt so unprecedented. When I was younger I participated in many demonstrations, some in Boston, some in New Haven, some in...
Virginia Woolf Gives Me Permission
A slightly younger friend of mine is traveling now on an open-ended trip in South America. She and her husband and two sons began in Ecuador and are camping, hiking, bussing, driving their way from there to Tierra del Fuego. They might be gone...
Writing in the Cold, the Dark
Sunday night, a week before Christmas, Day #5 of a power outage resulting from an ice storm. It is very dark here now, a few days before the Winter Solstice. We wear headlamps as we travel from room to room. The temperature inside the house...
Writing in the Trump Era
Welcome to the inaugural post of my new website! On the cusp of Trump’s ‘accession’ all aspects of life have come to feel different. Not an hour goes by when I don’t think about how things will be in a month, how things have already changed, how...