It’s been there for two weeks, ever since I returned from New Mexico. Some kind of Oriole–if we are to trust my limited birding skills–flits out of it whenever I open the front door.
Fowl Play
I have yet to recover from Thanksgiving. Forget for a moment that I don’t eat poultry or meat. There’s still stuffing, cranberry sauce and all the veggie side dishes. I’ve never gone hungry on the fourth Thursday in November.
The Last Supper
“I can’t talk to you now,” I barked at my friend on the phone. “It’s the Last Supper!”
The Little Things
My daughter is driving to Pacific Palisades with me and her friend, Priya, who’s visiting from Hastings-on-Husdon, New York.
The Show Must Go On
I scoured through a mountain of mail after arriving home from my road trip, hoping for a letter of acceptance.
