It once seemed inconceivable that we—or anyone--would operate a dialysis center in a spare bedroom.…
One Person’s Nude
One pleasant morning, in the late 1980s, I started my work as the Education Curator at the Des Moines Art Center in Iowa. The phone rang; it appeared we had a problem with an upcoming tour of elementary school children who were also scheduled for a studio-art...
Dialysis 3: Anāhata and the Art of Dialysis
The schlepping and stacking and priming and replacing of all the stuff associated with keeping the Cycler and Pureflow up and running is madness. I have absolutely no idea how anyone even slightly weaker or less competent than I—and I am seriously not competent—can...
Flori-duh?
An ad has been popping up too often on my computer when I try to play a nice quiet game of solitaire. The tag line is, “Come shine in Miami where every day will make you want to stay just a little longer.” The copy sounds like a hybrid of a Maurice Williams song...
Christmas Letter 2022
Best news first. my Dear One’s grandson Miles proposed to Holly, apparently in a New York City photo booth, and she said yes! While last year’s missive announced the nuptials of my nephew Dan (a brother’s middle son) and Lish out in Minnesota, this year I am...
Pumpkin
I noticed the post on Facebook suggesting that you remove the bottom of the pumpkin and not the top. While I didn’t pay attention to the details, I grasped that the seeds and guts would be easier to clean and that the candle or other illumination would be more firmly...
Dialysis 3: Warm Enough
Many people struggle to stay warm. They flee to Florida and Arizona, to Spain, pretty much anywhere the summer springs eternal. When they cannot do that, they jack up the thermostat. When my sister returned to Massachusetts on break from Arizona State University,...
The Art Of Their Craft
The tree guys—Clayton’s Tree Service–came by as scheduled. One dead green ash, one dying green ash, two non-fruiting persimmons and a cedar needed removal; the Japanese maple in the upper terrace garden needed a prune, pending my decision about eliminating it....
We Are All History
At the news of the death of Queen Elizabeth II, my mind went so many places. One of those places was my grandparents’ butler’s pantry. On one shelf, among odd sets, had been the set of coronation cups. “Who had them now?” I wondered and emailed my siblings and cousins...