The day was OK. The day was better. The dawn was beautiful. There was a flaw in the day. At 2 p.m., the guy who did the floor refinishing was supposed to come back to the house and fix some mistakes. They hadn’t realized that our upstairs loft has no subfloors, so when they coated … read more One perfect thing
Month: January 2017
Before dawn
The day started out pretty well, even though it began with less than six hours of sleep, at 4:40 a.m. I got up at 5:30 and did all the good-girl things first: I wrote, I ate breakfast, I took time to admire the beautiful sky and its hazy crescent moon. I made a huge effort … read more Before dawn
Unchanged
After all I went through with this house, and despite all the new parts to it, much is the same – the architecture, the possessions, the view. The great room isn’t quite the same – half the books are gone from the shelves. The wall hangings are still in a box. The stained glass lamp … read more Unchanged
Even now
You can get a master’s degree. You can travel through 40 countries. You can confront governors and oil companies. You can edit the front page of a major metropolitan newspaper. You can start a news agency in Afghanistan. You can teach writing and reporting, editing and photography in 20 other countries. But you’re still a woman. … read more Even now
Noon, January 20
When the minute of silence came, I closed my eyes and bowed my head. My hands began to shake. And then I began to sob. I covered my face and held the noise inside so as not to disturb anyone around me. A woman that I had met just a few minutes before put her … read more Noon, January 20
Mark of the maker
The two women held up a large item partially encased in bubble wrap. “Where does this go?” they asked. I stared. It took a second to recognize the stained glass lamp – because one side of it was caved in. “It hangs above the dining table,” I said. “But … it’s broken.” I was running … read more Mark of the maker
The quiet hours
The tea cup warms my hands as I sink back into the leather recliner and snuggle my feet under a fleece blanket. The only light comes from the lava lamp on the mantel and the faint glow of the skyscrapers across the way. There are no sounds at all. Branches make a sumi painting of … read more The quiet hours
A summer’s day
Had the air conditioning on in the car today. It’s January 17. 76 degrees here in Atlanta, according to our car’s gauge. A week ago, ice on the roads kept the workers away from finishing our house. I read last week that another big chunk of Antarctica has an 11-mile crack and may be about … read more A summer’s day
Claims on me
It’s a rather long list. Coffee table, stained glass lamp, two storage bins, Turkish stone vase, Baluch tapestries, stoneware crock and mixing bowls, fireplace, patio table, cantina lights, solar driveway lights, window blind … Twenty items, all told, that were damaged or destroyed in the past six months – when the tree fell, during house … read more Claims on me
New house
[Sunday, Jan. 15] We slept soundly, and woke up this morning in our own bed at last. It squeaked. Loudly. In the dozen years we’ve owned it, the frame hasn’t squeaked before. The movers left off some screws when they reassembled it. I’ve always loved the smell of this house that emanates from the raw wood … read more New house