Mother nudged me gently out of a sound sleep. “Wake up,” she whispered, “it’s almost time.” The time was about 4.a.m. in South Texas, still quiet and dark, save for the blue-gray flicker of light from our brand new television set in the next room.… Read More
One of the major art experiences of my life happened on a February day in 2005 when my husband and I went into New York City to see “The Gates” installation in Central Park. It was done by the environmental artists Christo and Jeanne-Claude, whom… Read More
A recent Sunday New York Times featured full-page photo spreads of people reading all around the City: old people, young people, children; walking, sitting, lying down; on the subway, in a park, on a front stoop… What is it about the summer, exactly, that prompts… Read More
People who don’t know me well would immediately describe me as outgoing, gregarious, animated, even loud. In other words, I appear to exhibit traits that are in direct contrast to the quiet, serious, studious demeanor that we generally ascribe to people we consider “bookish.” But… Read More
We just returned from a week in San Francisco, our first vacation in over two years. It was the ideal post-Covid travel choice for us because we were able to fly non-stop from home, we returned to a familiar destination, and most importantly, we spent… Read More
Unless you’re especially interested in social psychology, the name Robin Dunbar probably doesn’t mean much to you. Actually, I am into social psych and theories of relationships, but the name didn’t register with me either until I made the association with a cognitive theory of… Read More
Because I’m a seamstress, I have plenty of holiday-themed table linens, so I spent this morning washing and ironing some of them and setting out Valentine’s decorations. As I was ironing (something I realize most people don’t do at all anymore, even for their clothing,… Read More
It’s winter and unusually cold here already in South Texas with several nights dipping below freezing and several days hovering just above. After the devastation caused by last year’s severe winter storm, my husband is busily trying to protect his fragile flowers and shrubs with… Read More
Wayne Thiebaud died on Christmas Day. He was 101. The name probably doesn’t mean much to you — it didn’t to me either until a few weeks ago —but you would no doubt instantly recognize his delightful paintings of cakes, pies, and ice… Read More
I’ve always been an avid list-maker, but “avid” is hardly the word for it this year— more like compulsive. Perhaps that’s because I’ve suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to revive some of our old Christmas traditions, most of which we haven’t enjoyed since my… Read More
the narrative thread 