The Weekly

  • The Grandma’s

    My father’s mother was Italian. She was really old the day I was born and realy old twenty years later on the day she died. My Italian Grandma wore a dark dress every day of her life, a dark knitted shall, and support hose that came up to her knees. Her shoes were sensible black…

  • Road Trip

    My friend Kathy has a brother-in-law who shot an alligator once and took it to a taxidermist. The taxidermist preserved the alligator in a posture that made it look as though it were getting ready to jump up and bite someone. It appeared to be lunging forward, slightly elevated on its front legs with the…

  • Contentment Anyone?

    I recently spoke at a woman’s retreat on the subject of contentment: a tough subject for most of us. Our gathering was small, about thirty five women in all. Yet it was exactly right. One by one, we opened closed doors and introduced each other to the person hiding behind them. One by one we…