In The Name Of

I’m not who I thought I was. I had this little myth that most of my ancestors were draft-dodgers, and that they were rather recent comers to this country. Parts of this are true: Schurmans left the colonies because they were loyal to King George. Several of my ancestors left Europe because they lived in […]

Growing Season

The grapes are teenagers, but they look like babies. They are the size of big peas, but a different green, a lighter, clearer green, a green that says I am not ready. They are hard like plastic buttons, and the last part of their maturing is to just swell and swell. Juice. To become almost […]

Cowtown

The first cow I remember was the one on top of the Zarda ice cream shop. The ice cream was fine. I always got chocolate in a regular cone. The best part: the padded stools on shiny pedestals that went around and around. There were some oxen eternally pulling a covered wagon in front of […]

Like A Rug

I sang “Taste and see that the Lord is good.” Then I took communion, and then I went to breakfast and lied like a rug*. Across coffee and bowls of Rice Krispies, a nun with white hair and an unabashed face asked, “Are you Catholic?” “Yes,” I lied. “Oh,” she said. My life flashed before my […]