The Book Exchange
“He stole my book,” I moaned to my friends and co-workers, my bodega guy, my bodega cat. Anyone who would listen. “He stole my book. I love that book.”
March 26, 2024“He stole my book,” I moaned to my friends and co-workers, my bodega guy, my bodega cat. Anyone who would listen. “He stole my book. I love that book.”
March 26, 2024My Irish roots, as seemingly impossible as a rose in the desert, survived and thrived, despite the harshest of conditions.
March 17, 2024I appreciated that my neighbor was chatting with me like a normal person. Very few people know the gracious thing to say to someone who is dealing with a cancer diagnosis.
March 13, 2024“I don’t know how you do it!” along with a sigh of approval. And once, a woman smiled from ear to ear, and said, “Five kids? You’re a unicorn!”
March 9, 2024When I returned home and accessed my records all those years ago, it was the first time I realized that the taking of my own “social history” had not only been avoided; it had been fabricated.
March 4, 2024The Lemon Joy Tart is a hedge against the sadder dishes life will inevitably prepare for you.
February 29, 2024I’ve always felt drawn to the mountains, often quipping they’re my happy place. I feel different when I’m surrounded by nature. Calmer. Like I belong.
February 26, 2024I open the bag of clay and an odor redolent of summer rain on black soil envelops me. I’m comforted by this ancient material, a mixture of earth and water that has been around since (at least) the third day of the world.
February 25, 2024My dad ate slowly, elongating the time I had to stress out about leaving him there. The truth is, I don’t want to leave him anywhere. Ever. But a lot of him has left us at this point and we don’t have a choice.
February 21, 2024200 million animals are slaughtered for food every day worldwide and yet normal persons living normal lives will never set foot on a factory farm.
February 8, 2024