They left the house at half past nine
In two straight lines in rain or shine-
The smallest one was Madeline.
Those lines ought to be instantly familiar to anyone who’s spent time reading as, or to, a child. My love of Paris may have started with childhood exposure to the Madeline Continue reading →
A Man Without a Country
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr.
I hate giving up on people although I’m not quite sure why that is. I suspect that it verges on hopelessness and I have this deep, abiding belief that hopelessness is the greatest sin.
Still, you must know what I mean. Everyone has, lurking in their past, a person or two they were once close to and Continue reading →
I hate to say this, but I think my mom was wrong.
Growing up my mom was the reader in the house even though the demands on her time had reduced that to mostly newspapers and magazines with the occasional book borrowed from the local library. The hard evidence was locked away in an antique oak bookcase with a glass door that lived in the basement. There stood several Continue reading →