Tag Archives: reading

One Moment in Time

In 1990, I was 12 years old. But forget that. It’s not really important. In 1990, Ghost¬†was the big movie, the band Warrant released “Cherry Pie,” the chic wore massive hoop earrings and Converse all-stars, Cheers and The Golden Girls were popular, The Young and the Restless was the soap to watch, and slap bracelets were huge. Forget that, too. Not only is it not important but I had to look all that up. I don’t know it first-hand because I was a home-schooled kid who didn’t know anyone and had just relocated across the country with a mother and dad old enough to be my grandparents.

I don’t know how other kids feel about moving but I hated it. Then I loved it. Then I hated it again. Loved it. Hated it. Loved it. The cycles continued but eventually the periods of “loving it” lasted longer and the periods of “hating it” were relegated to days when the pollen count was high. Eventually what pushed me more into the “loving it” zone was the opportunity to pursue two interests: reading historical fiction and biographies side-by-side and hanging out in the jacuzzi at the new house, simultaneously. Read the rest of this entry »

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Posted by on February 15, 2012 in auto-biographical


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Memories Encased in Fabric

“Honey, why don’t you follow me to the file room?” Dad said as I walked into the room. “I found something for you.”

He pushes his 102-pound, 5-foot-10 emaciated frame from the chair with a rustle of denim and a stifled groan and begins the shuffling walk from the dining area through the kitchen, the hallway, the office, the garage, to the file room. As we walk, I note the decay of a house that hasn’t been maintained properly in 20 years, that hasn’t been cleaned since the last time I did it three years ago, immediately before my mother screamed at me to stop touching her home.

When we built the five car garage onto the house, Dad wanted a fire-proof, humidity-proof file room added as well. The size of a master bedroom, the file room is lined with five-drawer file cabinets, standing testament to the endless variety of neutral colors: putty, grey, off-white, dove, tan, beige, wheat, sandstone, parchment, and more. One of Dad’s regrets is that when we moved the file cabinets in, we didn’t line them up in spectrum color order. Perhaps we’ll do that ‘when he gets better.’ Read the rest of this entry »


Posted by on June 4, 2011 in auto-biographical


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