-
Love
Love is patient, kind…and sometimes wears a monkey hat. Love is not proud…unless it has a mink stole and a walkin’ stick, y’all! Love keeps your food delicious…and free of extraneous…
-
A portrait of the loud laugher as a young child
My Dad was a sensitive guy. Sometimes it seemed like the whole world was too much for him. Too loud. Too odiferous. Too crowded. Too bright. Too fast. When overwhelmed by his senses, he raised one eyebrow in disapproval, lowered his newspaper, looked over at whoever was nearby, shook his head, muttered something inaudible, raised…
-
What I’m Digging
Listening, reading, and watching much right now. The world provides much rich fodder. Excerpts from President Obama’s Inaugural address. Here’s the full transcript. For we, the people, understand that our country cannot succeed when a shrinking few do very well and a growing many barely make it. …We the people declare today that the most…
-
Citrine & Hillary
Last week, I had a 10 cm dermoid cyst removed from my ovary. For those of you not as well-versed in the metric system, allow me to put this into a more relatable image: a grapefruit. I had a grapefruit-sized TOTALLY BENIGN (thank heavens) dermoid cyst removed. Also, they removed the ovary on which the…
-
Giving Thanks
The Thanksgivings of my childhood had much tradition tied to them. The origins of some remain a mystery; others are burned into my brain as “the way” to do things. I’ve collected a few scenes from the turkey days of my youth. Here’s to the people, food, rituals and familial idiosyncrasies that make each Thanksgiving…
-
Songbird
Last week, I went out to see friends and hear a great band play. I saw lots of folks I knew and met some new ones, all of our voices growing louder to hear one another over the amazing music. Before long, it was too loud to talk and that suited me fine. Sometimes you…
-
Reunion
These are my people. More specifically, these are my college people. Not all of them, mind you, although we did attend a small liberal arts university in the woods of New Jersey. We, my people and I, have been places – London, Amsterdam, Rutland, Las Vegas, assorted diners, bars and athletic fields. We have done…
-
For Maureen: a three-legged race
I feel so angry, sad and confused right now that I’m not even sure I should be writing. But maybe writing through these feelings will help me make sense of them, because at this moment, there is so much that makes so little sense. Back in July, I wrote about a childhood friend that suffered…
-
Letter to a friend
For Amy, an ocean away. Across the Atlantic We sit Each in our own room Typing frenetically Sporadically Updating one another On news Life events Woes as experienced from the bathroom floor Wonders which include enchanted encounters We condense stories Better told leisurely Over coffee or tea In each other’s actual Physical company Wherein a…
-
Parts v. Junk
I spent countless hours of my childhood with my best friend Michael, playing baseball in the driveway, throwing passes he could dive for in the front lawn, playing Tracy Austin to his Jimmy Connors in ping pong in the basement. In general, playing every bit as hard as he did. When I was eight, my…
-
Follow
Following
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
jennybadman.com 