Archive for March, 2014

Birth, Death & Friendship

Friday, March 28th, 2014

Tara, Augie, me and Scout

When my daughter Augie and I left St. Johns to visit the first of her friends from the Palisades to have a baby she said to me, “ You and your friends are like the mafia, mom.  You’re such a close group and you always have each other’s back and the backs of each other’s kids.  It’s amazing.  I like it.”

The remark stunned me.  She’s right.  We are a tight group.   This is not something that was role-modeled, as my own mother had very few friends.  On the other hand, my father had more associates than Don Corleone. (more…)


Tuesday, March 11th, 2014


Stephanie, Libbie, young

I had no plans for Wednesday.  None.  The only vague plan was to go get the vaccine for shingles .  Those are the kind of plans I make now.  Planning ahead to prevent a medical disaster.   I don’t, however, own an earthquake kit, so clearly I’m not well prepared.   I woke up and wasn’t feeling it.  I would do what I always do: stay at home.  It was cold outside and threatening to rain.

To be honest, my day was derailed by an e-mail from my husband.  It was a link to a scone recipe and attached was a picture of a piping hot biscuit.  That did it.   I knew what my new plan was.   I looked in the refrigerator and the buttermilk would expire in two days.  Meant to be!!  I would be making biscuits.  I have some big productive days!! (more…)

Thank God it’s Friday

Monday, March 3rd, 2014


In the chill air at 7:30 in the morning, I would head out.   Heavy books that I never opened were piled high in my arms.  They weighed me down, but I was used to it.  These were pre-backpack years.  Teachers required you to cover books then, and mine wore clumsy jackets of recycled brown Safeway grocery store bags.  The covers barely hung on, despite the many pieces of Scotch tape randomly applied in all directions.

My bare, skinny legs descended from short, orange and yellow culottes as I crisscrossed the sidewalk, crunching hard on those fall leaves.  Never stepping on cracks for two blocks — from Roxbury to pick up my best friend Susie on Peck Drive.  She was freckled like me, but taller and more mature.  Now I could be distracted, not having to concentrate on my steps.  Instead, we’d talk about our plan for the weekend.  Compromising and strategizing.  Your best friend in school is really your first important relationship, almost a rehearsal for a some day marriage. (more…)