Caroline unfolded her legs from beneath her because one of them had fallen asleep, just as her younger sister had, mercifully. She’d been holding her book open with two hands, only her fingertips visible over the tops of the pages. A few days ago her nails were shiny and pink but now were cracked where she’d chewed them; entire chunks of lacquer in fact had … Continue reading Afternoon Miniature: June 14, 2026
That is the bucolic landscape my son and his partner awaken to every morning from their new digs. That white strip in the distance is not a river, as my mind’s eye kept trying to make it, but the plant clotches farmers use on immature crops. Part of the appeal of their move here was in fact the landscape and the promise it’ll never change, … Continue reading Sunday Almanac: Four Rainy Days in Mills River, NC
Not when it’s 85° outside and your HVAC system quits. We’re not even there yet, not even close to the Dog Days, so named for the constellation Sirius and the ancients’ belief it contributed to drought and madness, goes the lore. Those days are still months away. Aside from the sweat-inducing heat upstairs in this house, up in the loft where I work my full-time … Continue reading Sunday Almanac 5.3.26: Dog Days Are Fun
Alma had unlocked the secrets of the universe but wasn’t about to share them. As a consequence, she was as comfortable in her own crepey skin as a dewy, sun-kissed twenty-something. It followed that she would also take comfort in leaving on her nighties for most and sometimes all of her waking hours, except when trips to the grocery store or doctor’s office demanded a … Continue reading Afternoon Miniature: Alma’s Benediction
Yesterday I scratched an itch that’s been growing lately to create something tactile. A few weeks ago I enrolled in an eco-printing class (textile art felt safest to me) with artist Susan Kranyik at The ArtWorks™ near downtown Wilmington, a fantastic collection of artist studio spaces with an adjacent gallery. One thing and another conspired to keep the class from happening, but finally the planets … Continue reading Sunday Almanac: Remedial Eco-Printing
The surly flight attendant held the small black mic to her lips and advised us to keep our seatbelts fastened while the plane taxied to the gate. Nobody in their right mind would challenge this humorless woman. A moment earlier my heart jumped when our plane seemed to descend not toward a reassuring paved runway, but instead into the East River; from my seat I … Continue reading Reflection: Ladies and Gentlemen, Welcome to LaGuardia
They’re over here on the sofa passed out in their prom dresses. My friend Molly’s observation came in her familiar silken contralto voice at the other end of the phone line, and made me giggle. It was time to go retrieve my toddler from an afternoon play date with hers just a few blocks away, and it sure sounded like it had been a good … Continue reading Reflection: You Can Never Go Home
I am sitting in a nail salon at a small, round table with a fan trained on my outspread fingernails, which are painted an appealing shade of pale aquamarine. There are three little piles of business cards in holders on the table, and because the staff seem intent on torturing me with this obscenely long drying ritual, I have plenty of time to scrutinize them. … Continue reading Christmas 2025, in the Books
Madame Chairperson had busied herself all morning with the Rolodex on the massive mahogany desk in her new office, just after she tired of fingering her brass nameplate. She’d pulled it closer, the better to spin the wheel thingummie and watch all the cards flutter. And because it turned both ways (a discovery that delighted her to no end), she had experimented with it, observing … Continue reading Morning Miniature: Madame Chairperson’s Dilemma
The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry. ― Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms There was … Continue reading Reflection: No Use Crying
Carolina Thinklings 