Families are funny. Just when you believe that everybody’s clan celebrates birthdays by playing miniature golf, and everybody sings “For He’s a Jolly Good Fellow” at funerals, the way your family does, you find out that the folks next door do it differently. Some of…

I used to let my cat, Leo, go outside for a few hours a day. He seemed to love it, and it gave me a chance to brush him without getting gobs of cat hair all over the carpet. Besides, my parents always let Patches,…

I used to worship the sun. My friends and I would wear as little clothing as legal, and go outside when the sun was at its peak. Ask any tanner, and she’ll know when that is. Ten a.m. till two p.m., even later during daylight…

Dear [Name Deleted] Store, You may have noticed that I don’t come around anymore, debit card in hand. We had a good thing for a while there, me charging into your racks of clothes / shelves of food / acres of furniture, you happily taking…

When Joan Didion, one of my all-time favorite writers, wrote her essay “Goodbye to All That,” she was talking about something altogether different from my current concern. She was speaking of Manhattan, where she lived in her 20s, first in love with the place, later…

There’s nothing better than a real summer tomato, raised outside your doorstep or on a local farm. When you see those round red globes on tables at the farmers’ market, you know summer is really here. But every time I slice one up for dinner,…

I have nothing against potlucks. The idea of having everybody contribute to a meal is a nice, generous idea. Think of the poor hostess, peeling potatoes, boiling peas, zesting lemons, toasting hazelnuts. It’s enough to send a poor woman to bed, just as the guests…

I know a lot about trailers. First, and most importantly, don’t call it a trailer, unless it’s one of those vacation contraptions people pull behind their cars. The correct term is “mobile home.” I learned that in a hurry from my first husband, who worked…

We remember good times. We remember bad times. But there are some events that are etched into our collective memory. Each of us knows precisely where we were, and how we found out, when it happened. November 22, 1963, was a Friday, so I was…

Sophia is getting old. For years, my daughter has been telling me she’s twelve, not a day over, but the vet keeps less sentimental records. So now we know this orange tabby is actually sixteen. That’s old in cat years, maybe even older given the…

Dear Baker’s Chocolate Company, You have disappointed me. I’m sure you know I’m a chocoholic, and my favorite chocolate recipe requires two ounces of your fabulous unsweetened baking chocolate. I’ve been making it for years, slipping a box into the shopping cart as the spirit…

Some people like to talk, and some people don’t. Those who like to talk sometimes have trouble telling you much of anything without turning it into a story. I’ve written here before about my need for conversation, and how, when I go out to dinner…

I never had to take the car keys away from my father. As his cancer advanced and his faculties declined, there was no longer any question of driving. The car sat in the garage, to be sold, months later, after he was gone. Mom never…

Islands fascinate me. Though they vary wildly in size and population – the mind boggles comparing Manhattan Island (22 square miles, almost two million residents) with Kahoolawe, the smallest in Hawaii (45 square miles and completely deserted). Think of all the great mysteries set on…

“I think that I shall never see / a poem lovely as a tree.” You may not think much of Joyce Kilmer’s poem, but he has a point. Trees are really lovely. Growing up, my family’s backyard tree was a weeping willow. (Are there willows…

Memoirs about friendship abound. One I enjoyed depicts the strong bond of two women, kindred souls who loved writing and dogs. Gail Caldwell titled the book “Let’s Take the Long Way Home,” because that’s what they would do, after a long hike through the woods.…

Searching for an end to my headaches has brought me in touch with many interesting people. I use that word, “interesting,” because to use a word like “weird” or “zealous” or “cockamamie” or “nuts” would be just not very helpful. So I am not going…

I found my baby book the other day. It’s not much. A slim, fake-leather volume titled “Book of Baby Mine,” it holds a lock of hair, a pair of tiny footprints, and the time of my birth. Now I can have my astrological chart done,…

Am I going nuts? Or not? I’m not being rhetorical or metaphysical here. I’m on a diet – an “elimination diet” – and nuts are taboo in this land of no-nos. Shelled, raw, toasted, sliced, salted – all those tasty variations are forbidden to me,…

Confession time: I don’t know the names of most of my neighbors. First names, a few, the people next door and some across the street. A couple of them work where my husband or I work, so we know them. A few, we call by…