writing

Will privatized housing complaints avoid the abyss?

“There’s no knob on the door,” I said to the Balfour Beatty Communities manager when we arrived at our quarters at Naval Station Newport, Rhode Island. It was a hot day in July of 2013 when the BBC manager sheepishly opened the knob-less door of the century-old duplex house we had been assigned…

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Putting on ‘Big Girl Pants’ in 2022

Pants-less, but still wearing socks and shoes, I descended the basement stairs to stash groceries into our second refrigerator. As I was loading potatoes into the crisper, the doorbell rang…

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A Holiday Party Invitation

My pants were tight. My hair was frizzy. My nail polish was chipped. And I was constipated. But it didn’t matter. Locusts could swarm our car, boils could break out on my skin, and the sun could disappear. Nothing would spoil my good mood, because we were going to a Christmas party. 

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Finding meaning in the spaces between

There was a mountain of laundry to do, Christmas gifts to order, pork to defrost, tumbleweeds of dog hair to sweep up, and computer work waiting in my cramped, chilly home office. I needed motivation, energy, positivity. But all I felt was a vague sense of apathy, boredom and guilt…

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