Dad had a rough transition, both physically and emotionally, to his new home. Lots of consultations with social workers and physical therapists and nurses and docs. A few days with a full-time minder, to whom he was polite, but whose … Continue reading
Yearly Archives: 2013
The two of you may recall a post from a few years back in which I discussed a Thanksgiving notable primarily for the eccentric flow of household waste water and the delicious effect it had on our version of America’s … Continue reading
Because he’s such a dead-pull hitter, opposing teams have been throwing a shift at David Ortiz, in which the shortstop (sometimes the third baseman) moves into short right field. The other night Big Papi hit a looper that would normally … Continue reading
Sitting on a shelf downstairs is an audio book—already read but borrowed from the library for car trips—called, The Perfect Mile. It’s about Roger Bannister, John Landy, Wes Santee, and their quest to be the first to run four minutes. … Continue reading
Today would have been my parent’s 68th anniversary. When I was little I used to insist that I was at their wedding (it was really my Uncle Bob’s, I think). They’d laugh and say maybe I had been, but they … Continue reading
I was in Concord for a few days, mostly trying to finish up the painting in the attic conversion. (Which is looking pretty good, finally.) On Sunday, I was enticed to the hills. H chose Belknap, which has an old … Continue reading
We’re in Freeport, Maine, to support H and A, who are racing in the Lobsterman Tri tomorrow morning. Earlier, we were all crossing the street in slightly wet and wooly conditions when our umbrella got blown into premature decrepitude. B: … Continue reading
Sweet B starts kindergarten Monday. Last weekend, we went to Massachusetts to celebrate our niece’s engagement, and B displayed the engineering gene she’s inherited from her dad. She and a grown-up helper or two constructed this elaborate set of chutes, … Continue reading
Years and years ago, I often ran workouts that I called “Rockers,” pushing hard for a half-mile or so to the top of the road we then lived on, which was a well-pitched hill, recovering by jogging slowly down the … Continue reading
At bedtime when she’s here or I’m at her house, I often lie down for a snuggle with B. She invariably asks me for a Little Peach story, an impromptu feat of imagination I no longer carry off as well … Continue reading