Saturday, March 1, 2003
Lessons
Until some paperwork is official and there can be enrollment in real school, I’m tutoring a fifth-grader named Sage. If you’re not a teacher, and you haven’t been in a classroom since 1965 (except for a couple of guest appearances in Mrs. Osborne’s fifth grade), it is a daunting challenge to...
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Sunday, February 23, 2003
She Had The Knack
No one who was visiting on the patio that afternoon would have suspected that she read Copernicus, in translation, in the bathroom. She had tangled red hair and long red nails, the first one of us to be kissed, the first to have a lover, the last to marry. I was the prettiest, everyone said so, and...
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Saturday, January 25, 2003
Potluck
It’s time to go. We can’t. The garlic and ginger have to be sautéed and sprinkled on the top, it needs boiled eggs on the side, and grated coconut. I can’t take it like this, it’s not spicy enough, it’s not finished. Who cares? Broccoli, rice, peanut sauce, looks fine to me. Two hours, I’ve been...
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Friday, January 24, 2003
Happy Birthday, Antonio!
The last remaining jobs in America, according to my son, are with the multinationals on the east coast. He's there now, selling mortgages to people who answer ads proclaiming "No Credit? No Problem!" My stepsons are there, too, pulling down the GNP of Chad for designing local area networks for...
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Thursday, January 23, 2003
Who Can Afford to Work?
Working -- for money -- is a luxury my husband, John, and I have realized we can no longer afford. A second car? Clothes that can be worn in public without being tailed by the store dick? Cash for lunch, for gas? "Work At Home!" the pop-ups suggest. A good idea: but the real money to be made at home...
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