By Anne Fox Like Simone de Beauvoir, I have compared housework to the torture of Sisyphus. Yet once in a while, when an afternoon turns golden, I remember the outcome of an irresistible impulse. Despite my many years of kinship with a clothes dryer, long...
When I was a kid there were two pretty extraordinary forces in my life: a book of poems called “A Light in The Attic,” and my older sister. By the time I was eight years old, I was a sullen member of the RIF (reading is fundamental) program. I segregated my worth from...
This week’s blog is written by Maria Caballero, a summer intern from North Central College in Naperville, Illinois. She is majoring in English, with an emphasis on writing, and will be spending the fall studying abroad in Canterbury, England. On December...
“MOM!” It was about as urgent as a teenage boy is willing to sound. But I’m writing. “MOM!” I hear it again, so I leave my office and run upstairs to find out what’s got my son riled up. He’s standing in the hallway outside of his bathroom. He points to the...
I spent time Sunday with my siblings – two brothers and a sister. We gathered in rural New Hampshire to spread what remained of my mother’s ashes in the old family cemetery across from our childhood home. The four of us stood together briefly under a mottled autumn...
