reframing femininity
“Mom! You agreed to let us make the mashed potatoes, and we’re doing it. You don’t need to micro-manage the whole process!” The words my daughter spoke stung, but they were true. I had allowed her to be in charge of creating the decadent, buttery-smooth potatoes that were her favorite part of our traditional Thanksgiving…
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My first stop after checking in at the ticket counter was Starbucks. I stared at the travel mugs, not particularly thrilled with what I saw. Option 1: Plastic insulated tumbler in traditional holiday red and white. Initially, this cup grabbed my attention with its sparkling red letters and crisp white background. “Let’s Merry”. A closer…
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Dear girls: I find myself sitting on the tarmac right now. My neck feels tight and I try to find relief by twisting and stretching from side to side. I am cornered into a window seat with little room to spare. There is an invisible privacy fence positioned between me and the adjacent stranger. She smiles…
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Thanksgiving is coming, and I write this with a smile on my face. I have a soft tissue injury in my foot and a hand that needs an MRI. These are not ideal injuries for a tennis player who is also training for a half-marathon. Being side lined isn’t fun, but it frees me up…
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I had never been to Europe, more specifically London or Paris. I had come to love both cities through favorite films and books: visiting St. Paul’s Cathedral with Mary Poppins and the bird lady, visiting Westminster Abbey as I watched royal weddings on TV, and traveling to the Eiffel Tower with my favorite characters in…
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My surprised skin bumped into the chills of the new fall morning air. Inhaling deeply from its fresh coolness, I steadied my beating heart’s morning aches that were left over from last night’s racing internal discussion about a life and a death. A young 19-year-old woman hung, suspended before my mind with her long, coarse,…
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Twilight was settling over Paris as we emerged from the Metro to walk to our apartment on Rue de la Fontaine au Roi. A cloak of lavender sky was settling over our final day in the City of Lights, and we felt serene and satisfied. Well, almost satisfied. Reed and I had a craving for…
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As a child, a dark closet was the safest ground to play with my dolls. My mother was not a cruel woman, but she didn’t play, nor did she give room for anything other than work. She grew up in the aftermath of the Great Depression with a mother who gave two of her children…
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It has been over five years since I wrote about my beach glass collection. Actually it was the topic of one of my first entries for Red Tent Living. I posted an impressive picture of that collection that is repeated here for your enjoyment. My beach glass is no longer clustered together as in the…
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Four years ago, on a wintery morning, a fierce, truth-telling woman whom I cherish as my elder told me something I have never forgotten: “You can’t know where this story leads. All you can do is look at this moment and do the next right thing.” At the time, we were speaking of a romantic…
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