Yesterday morning, I sat in my living room and watched the birds flitting through the yard on breakfast rounds. My stillness on one of the world’s ugliest couches was rewarded with a speedy visitor – a hummingbird decided to make our winter daphne his brunch buffet. His visit was quick, but introduced some flying cherry [...]
March 9, 2007
my son, the feminist
He loves meatballs the size of tennis balls, and contact sports, both of which I could never have predicted, and whose possible consequences make me wince. But Ben really bowled me over this morning with this whopper from nowhere: “You’re not a lady, you’re a woman!” Right on, baby man, right on.
p.s. to dilettante: [...]
