I’m finally sobering up after a night that was intoxicatingly special. Friday night I was one of 6 storytellers at a public event held at the Linda Auditorium. The occasion was a celebration of the 8th anniversary of our local take on the Moth Story Hour, The Front Parlor Series, which occurs monthly in two … Continue reading Telling the story of A Fire, a Phonebook Page and Finding My Father
Following what may have been the best June ever and a July that was fantastic, August has started with a bang! Last night I had a primo Albany evening - drinks with friends, a concert that was beyond all expectations and a late night walk around the Empire State Plaza. Plus, there was the bonus … Continue reading Catching a Lyft to see the Shakes
For the first time in 18 years I don’t have summer accommodations booked for Cape Cod. After last year’s trip, which took a lot out of all of us despite the great house and nearly all good company, and buying the restaurant which kind of put a new limit on the length of time I … Continue reading Sometimes life isn’t a beach
After an active weekend and the theft of an hour, I wasn’t feeling much like cooking. When the opportunity presented to meet Aloysius for dinner it felt like the ideal way to punctuate a weekend and I jumped on it. As we considered a comfortable meeting spot, Woodstock’s Cucina popped into my mind with an … Continue reading Cucina Woodstock rivisitato
Since I first became infatuated with Stand Up Paddleboarding (SUP) last year, I've sought out opportunities to indulge my urge to be on the water paddling to my heart's content. In July I had a great time in my hometown with friends tooling around the lake on a windy afternoon in kayaks and on board. … Continue reading Whassup, Cape Cod!
I went to mass the other day. It was in my hometown in the same church where I made my first communion, attended catechism classes and impatiently sat through midnight mass on Christmas Eve eager to only get home and open a single gift, as was our custom. I was there to accompany one of … Continue reading Fathers – the ones we have and the ones we don’t
Last year's memories of Mountain Jam are a bit tainted. I'd had a really rough morning, thanks to my middle son, and my early afternoon proved that the day could, in fact, become even worse. As always, my friends pulled me through that day and were once again on hand this year to replace any … Continue reading Mountain (without the) Jam