Recent Blog Posts
Retrospection 1: My Madeleines
Memories are not, I think, narratives we remember as much as impressions, images and sensations. In that I am in agreement with Proust. Such imprints seem, at least to me at this great distance from the events, a little random although not events seen through a rose-tinted lens. Who knows, though, whether they are the…
It’s a Lovely Day to be a Little Groundhog
My parents apparently intended to name me “Maggie,” but settled on “John” when they became convinced I would be a boy; my mother, in a postnatal stupor, responded to a badgering nurse that my name was “Ellen” and that’s what stuck. They still like the name Maggie, though, and went out and bought a toy…
At 60 you’re just getting started?
The morning of January 28 dawned bright and mild. At 11:00, doors would open to the party we had planned for ourselves to celebrate my 60th, my Dear One’s 78th, the 2nd anniversary of our marriage and my Tattooed Boy’s 30th, and all of which fall with a month’s span, give or take a couple…
Private Faith and Public Actions
Well the Forty-Niners beat the Saints in a heart-stopping final two minutes of the playoffs, and the Patriots beat the Broncos and their verbified quarterback, Tim Tebow. Does this mean that those who pan for gold have an advantage over they who have hearts of gold? That success comes to those who place constitutional values…
Black Beauty goes to World War One
Apparently a few British critics have made the connection between Anna Sewell’s classic, Black Beauty (1877), and Michael Morpurgo’s War Horse, the basis for Stephen Spielberg’s most recent film, but no American reviewer I have encountered has thought to compare them. Perhaps in this country the relationship is not so obvious but Black Beauty belongs…
Happy Birthday to Me!
January 5th is the best day to have a birthday and there seemed to be no shortage of warm wishes from the cosmos. 2012 is, I hope, an auspicious moment to enter, along with the Today Show, a seventh decade. My Dear One devised the perfect plan: leave the car in Wilmington and take the…
One-One-Two Thousand and Twelve
A mild January day is a gift any time but on New Year’s Day it seems a good omen. Most every January 1 my Dear One and I go walking, partly to allow the miasma of rich meals, welcomes prepared, and emotions charged to dissipate, mostly to regain the sense of us that we feel…
My Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come
What will happen to all those Christmas ornaments when I am gone? The tree is finally decorated. We bought it five or six days ago and it has been sitting in a bucket of water awaiting installation in the living room. Then yesterday we set it into the stand, draped it with twinkling white lights…
It Is Enough
The great golden globe of the moon rose above the horizon as we came around the curve in I-95 headed home. His expression was slightly drunken, a laugh out of one side of his mouth and eyes askew. Too much eggnog? An excess of champagne? The old fellow was clearly jolly, as full of holiday…
WWI: A Wrap-Up
What a wonderful time we had in France. Here is what we learned: Northeastern France is a really muddy place. Having GPS makes a world of difference. Whoever rides shotgun gets to look out the window and enjoy the ride instead of staring at a map and turns are announced to the driver decently in…
WW1: 11-11-11
The Museum of the Great War officially opened on 11 November 2011, the 93rd anniversary of the Armistice. The ceremony was intended to take place at 11:00, apparently, but was pushed down to 3:00; speeches aired at 4:00 suggesting that there were further delays. Doors opened to the public at 6:00. My Dear One and…
WWI: Prolegomena to 11-11-11
We learned of the imminent opening of a museum dedicated to World War One from a cashier at a Carréfour market somewhere on the outskirts of Meaux as we headed into our final week in France. Her English was superb, but then, she said, she was half-English. Once settled into our gîte Milleroses, we tried…
WWI: The Valley of the Painters of the Grand Morin
Neither I nor my Dear One thought Crécy-la-Chapelle would have much to recommend it beyond access to the Champagne battlefields and a relatively short drive to Charles de Gaulle for our flight home. There were some charming pictures of the town center in spring and summer but nothing we could see through Google’s satellite-eye inspired…
WWI: Nice Digs
We have only a few days left before we must find our way to Aéroport Charles de Gaulle. The penultimate day of our travels, Friday, carries the magical numbers 11-11-11. At 11 o’clock I hope to be focused on that moment 93 years ago when the War to End All Wars ended. Today, however, I…
WWI: I have so many questions…
So much of this trip has been about discovering a grandfather who was never a part of my memory. David Sanford Cutler died suddenly from what may have been a staph infection in 1926. His sons Calvin (my father) and David were only two and four years old respectively. His widow Hazel, my Granny, remarried…
