Month: October 2007
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Harvest Recipe
Take one locally-grown 4-year-old bubbie: Mix in a little Mo Willems’ KNUFFLE BUNNY: Shake vigorously. Months later, after ripening and fermentation, when the wee bubbie subsequently suggests making a “gravetomb” (preschooler speak for “tombstone”) to decorate the yard for Halloween, gently fold in the question, “What shall we paint on it? R.I.P?” He will figure […]
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Jocelyn Buttstrong
By mistake, I went on a 14-mile bike ride the other day. It’s not like I was transferring the sheets from washer to dryer, only to suddenly look down and note with a surprised “How the hell did this happen?” that I’d been spinning along on a bike for more than an hour. That’s […]
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Bread and Pez
As is the case with most households, we pretty much live in the kitchen. Food happens there, of course, but so do soul-baring, cross-word puzzling, game-playing, homework-doing, robot-building, friend-entertaining, and mind-numbing-boozing. We spend a good part of every day in that room; it is, quite clichedly, the heart of the house. Yet our kitchen sucks […]
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FREAK IT, But She’s Hot
Even heathens and pagans know this one: A guy named Paul, a whole long time ago, found a scroll and a quill and, over a leisurely cup of red wine, asserted that “a woman’s hair is her crowning glory.” For completely non-biblical reasons–who is this Paul to me, after all?–I’ve often believed that this assertion […]
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All Shook Up
My mom graduated from high school in 1953. She graduated from college in 1957. In many ways, she remained distinctly behind the times; for example, when Elvis Presley first appeared on the Ed Sullivan show in 1956 and essentially transformed youth culture in the space of 3 minutes, my mom was blissfully unaware that some […]
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Sucking It Up
In last month or two, during a phase when my lap is always full, my neck skin is constantly fondled, and “I yuv you a bushel and a peck” is whispered repeatedly into my ear throughout the day, I am exceedingly aware that I have never before–and will never again–be loved as sweetly deeply profoundly […]
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Mounting Evidence That I May Not Hate Poetry
“Mom, how come you have that poem taped to the end of our bunk beds?” Girl asked a few weeks ago. She was referring to this: “A Supple Cord”My brother, in his small white bed, held one end. I tugged the other to signal I was still awake. We could have spoken, could have sung […]