Thursday, August 24, 2006


This is something everyone has; it is also something not everyone sees. Charisma may sometimes be confused for magic, it is not. Though it may be an asset, charisma can also be a shield.

Saturday, August 05, 2006

Paper airplanes

I am raising a little boy to become a good man.

He's happy and sweet and a terrible two, all I wanted, and more than I could dream. His internal clock does not know weekends are for sleeping in. He'll press every button, find any remote, ask for Cheerios and then dump them on the floor. He loves his Mimi and Ga-pah, already blames things on Ru-ru. This little man makes me laugh every day, what more could I ask? The road we'll travel is sure to wind. Along the way, we'll be making paper airplanes...

Friday, August 04, 2006

I am from...

I am from Campbell’s Tomato Soup and grilled cheese cut down the middle, a warm mug of hot cocoa stuffed with mini marshmallows, and, of course, the occasional snuck Oreo.

I am from home-grown cucumbers, breakfast radishes, which by the way are not to be eaten for breakfast, and warm, delicious tomatoes.

I am from “clean your plate” and “you will never see a lima bean in this house!”

I am from Nancy Drew by flashlight and under the covers; The Hardy Boys, Strawberry Shortcake, Holly Hobby and a mom who cares enough to buy a black market Cabbage Patch Kid.
I am from 9 Flintlock Drive.

I am from Girl Scout Camp and red rubber boots, the stables of Foggy Valley Farm, Cambodia Acres and the warm nuzzles of Woofie, Blackie, Misty, and PJ.

I am from New Jersey.

I am from Broadway, chicken pox and the regret of missing Annie.

I am from Easter Baskets and batches of homemade Christmas Cookies, ice cream made with what was left from the raspberries picked by Dad and I.

I am also from “don’t make me pull over this car!” and “Oooooooonnnnnneeeeee…t-w-o…three!”

I am from “be careful,” ballet, and backyard birthday parties; bobbing for apples and pony rides.

But mostly, I am from 1-4-3, I love you.

I am from a good place.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006


Words. I love 'em. Somehow I'm certified to teach them. Now I write them. Sometimes, though not often as I should, I read them. Mostly I think of them; how they sound rolling around in my head, what they say when I put them together.

This army we compile to say who we are.