Somewhere deep inside, in that pure place that isn’t jaded by life on earth, I’m a believer in “ask and ye shall receive” or at least “it can’t hurt to ask.” Richard and I knew in March 2020 it was time to move on from Jackson Heights, but there weren’t many options. We managed to…
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When my mind quiets down from its frenetic processing of news, I am shocked anew at our current state of affairs. At how in one short week my life went from laughing and eating with friends at a newly discovered Harlem agaveria to being locked inside my Jackson Heights apartment with my asthmatic husband, dreading…
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“Are you stuck in a rut?” There’s a powerful deck of cards and companion book my writer pals and I have been using for years at our annual writing retreat at the beach. The set is called Medicine Cards by Jamie Sams and David Carson, illustrations by Angela Werneke. Each of us pulls a card…
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When was the last time you laughed? Really laughed. Not a snicker at a silly meme or a polite chuckle at a poorly told joke. A guffaw, with head thrown back. Maybe you think there isn’t much to laugh at these days. You’d be in good company. But that’s exactly why we need to seek…
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After a lovely dinner with my son at Pizza Classica in Forest Hills, my husband and I decided to walk to Banter Irish Bar. We were in the mood for a Guinness, and the Mets and Yankees were playing. It was a good excuse to teach my British hubby the finer points of America’s favorite…
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My husband and I practically crawl up the steps of the subway station, huffing and puffing. It’s a hot, muggy day. A few feet away, a young, homeless man sits on the sidewalk with a sign I can’t make out. What I can see, however, is the look of absolute pleasure on his face as…
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I have often said, mostly to myself, that with just one onion I could make a feast with whatever else happened to be left in the cupboards. That is the perfection of an onion. Whether raw and finely grated, roasted in the oven, or sautéed and shiny from a bit of extra virgin olive oil,…
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Some things happen in life that haunt you forever. Sometimes that’s a good thing. In the 1990s, a dear friend gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. She needed to buy a gift at a now-defunct hobby shop and took him with her. As she walked up and down the aisles with baby in her…
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A young father holds a little boy on his lap. The boy’s arms are wrapped around his dad’s neck, the smooth skin of his face nuzzled against a stubbly cheek. In one hand, he holds a neon green car. The scab on his knee suggests there may have been tears a few days back. Now,…
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