The Writing Closet

The Butler (my husband, not the movie) planned to spend August covering his colleagues’ holidays rather than take one himself.  Fine with m...

My mother is a master quilter.  She has the ability to see, in a collection of fabrics, the intricate wee triangles and squares that will c...

Mount Grace This weekend, the Butler and I went to an open air production of Sense and Sensibility set on the grounds of Mount Grace...

There’s a garden outside my window, and it’s had a weird summer.  The cosmos has grown into great hulking brutes of foliage, the dahlias lo...

A lot of us were raised on a porridge of self eradication.  Ask not what your country can do for you.  Offer it up for the poor souls.  Oth...

A friend recently expressed the hope that a recalcitrant adult child would one day see the error of her way, return as a welcomed prodigal....

Outside Congregation My son graduated from university this week.  With his ear, lip and tongue piercings, sleeve tattoo, pink hair and ...