We can hear the bells from our living room. Every time they ring I get a tiny thrill. I glance outside at the pigeons and red clay rooftops and just for a second, it’s another era. It’s time travel (no sacrifice of electricity or indoor plumbing required). Our oldest, grandest neighbor, the collegiate church Notre-Dame-des-Marais of Villefranche-sur-Saône began to take shape in the 13th century. … Continue reading if walls could talk
I like my hair to submit to MY will, not the other way around. Continue reading act in haste, repent at leisure: a cautionary tale in four haircuts
I savored this moment of tranquility before the onslaught of visitors, this moment to stare at the sleeping baby in the transparent bassinet and contemplate that she was mine. She of the long Disney lashes and big gray-blue eyes. She of the startling lungs. It all seemed as improbable as if there had been some mythical stork involved, or some benevolent fairy godmother. The events of Sunday (and very early Monday morning) felt like a dream–albeit one in which no detail was lost to me. Continue reading champagne & cheeseburgers: in which Clara enters the world
Question: how many people does it take to stuff a voluminous wedding dress into a modest carry-on suitcase? Answer: two, if one is unsentimental and can bear the agony of rolling, folding, and crushing the garment into a form one-quarter of its original size while the other watches in horror. The non-sentimental character in this scenario is my mom. She knows how to get things … Continue reading the runaway bride
“It’s less than exhilarating, my existence here. Friends have moved on, to engagements and new cities. My old jobs are positively vintage, inaccessible. What’s left is family and this old house where each creak of the floorboards is familiar.
In a world so full of noise, this kind of quiet feels almost radical.” Continue reading flyover country