Red Room Where the Writers Are

I long to travel. Near or far, I care not. My eyes crave variety, beauty, interest.

I have to make a dish for Thanksgiving. Colaches is my pick, but I can't read the recipe because it's in Czech. Last summer my boyfriend took me to Czech to meet his family.

When Annie was a little girl, everytime we'd pull the car up in front of the house, Bill would announce, "Home again, home again, jiggity-jig."

For most of the  past week my mother sat on the front porch in a rocker and stared out at her beloved ocean.  She said "beautiful" a lot.  Last year's word was "gorgeous." 

My husband and I like dives and joints, and we weren't going to Chincoteague for the food, so after a very mediocre meal at the place everyone recommended (probably because it is the only restauran

Today we drove through thick gray smog from Banning to Los Angeles.

Being on vacation is strange because I always fight being on vacation.  I don't want to drop my little life rituals.  I want my coffee, my workout, my writing, my computer time.  I cart aroun

 During the month of June, I will be taking a one month unpaid sabbatical from work to focus on my writing.  It feels like such a generous gift to give myself.  Even as someone who is relatively