Category Archives: Suburbia
Christmas With the Chipmunks
In my home, there was nothing unusual that on the last snowy night of Hanukkah in December 1963, after we had lit all the candles on the menorah, one of Hanukkah gifts was a Christmas album- “Christmas With the Chipmunks.”
Christmas With the Chipmunks
In my home, there was nothing unusual that on the last snowy night of Hanukkah in December 1963, after we had lit all the candles on the menorah, one of Hanukkah gifts was a Christmas album- “Christmas With the Chipmunks.”
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Forgotten Fall Rituals – Burning Leaves and Fear of Fallout
Jumping in the pile of crunchy, dead leaves, hurling them into the air like confetti, was a fall ritual for mid-century kids. So was burning leaves. That earthy smell of burning autumn leaves is forever seared in my mind, transporting
Every Woman Has A Story
Every woman has a story. Or two. I was thirteen when an adult cousin of my father’s tried to kiss me in a way reserved only for romantic movies. But I guess, according to Megyn Kelly, it was ok because
Every Woman Has A Story
Every woman has a story. Or two. I was thirteen when an adult cousin of my father’s tried to kiss me in a way reserved only for romantic movies. But I guess, according to Megyn Kelly, it was ok because
My Mother’s Love Grew in My Garden
With Mother’s Day coming up, a new poignancy is added to the loss and destruction of my former gardens. The image of the rose-covered arbor that came up in the Facebook memories brings with it a deep association with my
My Mother’s Love Grew in My Garden
With Mother’s Day coming up, a new poignancy is added to the loss and destruction of my former gardens. The image of the rose-covered arbor that came up in the Facebook memories brings with it a deep association with my
Garden Grief
At this time of year, my former beautiful garden in my former home appears as random pop-up memories on Facebook as it did yesterday. It startles, a poignant but at times painful reminder of the beauty I created, nurtured, and
Garden Grief
At this time of year, my former beautiful garden in my former home appears as random pop-up memories on Facebook as it did yesterday. It startles, a poignant but at times painful reminder of the beauty I created, nurtured, and
Make Fashion Great Again
Swarms of MAGAS have invaded Long Island this past week, as invasive and annoying as late summer gnats at the beach. If only I could swat them away! Out in full force, their rallying cry was “Let’s show the world
Make Fashion Great Again
Swarms of MAGAS have invaded Long Island this past week, as invasive and annoying as late summer gnats at the beach. If only I could swat them away! Out in full force, their rallying cry was “Let’s show the world
Mr. Stanley’s Neighborhood
One by one, my dog Moe is meeting the regular cast of characters in Mr. Stanley’s neighborhood. Though Stanley spent most of his pampered life sequestered in his suburban paradise of a large verdant yard and in-ground pool, once we
Mr. Stanley’s Neighborhood
One by one, my dog Moe is meeting the regular cast of characters in Mr. Stanley’s neighborhood. Though Stanley spent most of his pampered life sequestered in his suburban paradise of a large verdant yard and in-ground pool, once we
A Hunter’s Christmas
65 years ago the most wished-for Christmas gift for this Jewish, 3-year-old suburban girl was a hunting rifle. Not just any rifle, but a gen-u-ine- Roy Rogers rifle, perfect for hunting pretend bears in my post-war suburban development. This
A Hunter’s Christmas
65 years ago the most wished-for Christmas gift for this Jewish, 3-year-old suburban girl was a hunting rifle. Not just any rifle, but a gen-u-ine- Roy Rogers rifle, perfect for hunting pretend bears in my post-war suburban development. This
Envisioning The American Dream 