Books and books

The more I read, the more I know I haven’t read. But that’s all right with me. It’s like having a bunch of friends waiting on the sidelines. This site tickles me: By heaven, the woman can read. She must not have a baby. And where is she getting all her fabulous recommendations?? Perhaps […]


You said you couldn’t cut the mustard As if it pained you. Did you even know what that meant? How about, close but no cigar? Uriah Heep is rising writhing in the forest of my mind Illiterate mind, ascrawl with shorthand. Scratchings of a bird foot in the dust. Maybe Jesus wrote in shorthand at […]

the travesty of mass-manufactured clothing

This has long been a lament of mine, but it’s really come to the front this summer. It’s a personal opinion that spandex really came into its own when clothes stopped being made by normal people. Remember all those novels where the heroine yearned for a “store-botten dress?” Little Anne of Green Gables pined for […]

Beanius Pohlighayesius– a fine specimen

I just googled “best mommy blogs” and looked at maybe ten. They are Boring with a capital B. I was hoping for inspiration, but maybe I ought to stick with Thomas Wolfe and Garcia Marquez. Their little-bruited mommy blogs. Fortunately, while I am a mother, I don’t think of this journal as a mommy blog. […]

the literature of an unsnobbish snob

My house is filled with books. They’re stacked crazily on the bookshelves and in piles on the floor. I read incessantly, voraciously. My friends ask me how to spell words but it’s not as though I have a preternatural memory; I just see thousands and thousands of words over time. They burn into my mind. […]

Dickensian, if anything.

Ashley said to me once, in a fight, that I was crazy, that I inhabited a fantasy world because when I looked at the world I was violently shocked at the evil and in awe of the good. I stopped then, and said I didn’t think I was alone in that. And he said maybe […]


I believe that men who hold anger in their hearts are small. That they hold onto anger because they have little in their lives. Great men and women have the world to think about, and anger takes up too much room. I don’t know whether it’s better to try and live apart, higher, than I […]