cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
Although I grew up in a large city (Detroit), I only inhabited one small part of it, what is locally known as the east side. Woodward Avenue divided the east side from the west side of Detroit, and I had no reason to cross Woodward Avenue. Everything I needed was available on the east side,…
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That little red house on the hill was the home of my babysitter and her family of many children. Adding two more little girls to the daily mix seemed the perfect solution to the need my mom had for someone to watch my sister and me. It appeared to be a place to play with…
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