The Postscript

Crazy Couch

It was an old camelback couch, a loveseat really, but with wide, rolled arms. It appeared to be an older piece of furniture that had been restored. The fabric was crazy. It was a patchwork of burned velvet fabric in brilliant hues. It was the brightest, craziest couch I’d ever seen, and it was being sold alongside art and sculpture, which made sense, because it really was a work of art.

400 Square Feet

The interior of our apartment will set you right back to the 1980s. The Formica countertop has seen better days. I write in a corner of the living room and have exactly six inches between the back of my office chair and the end of the couch. Peter measured our apartment, and it is 400 square feet—and that includes a rather large bedroom.

Ice Cream Tonight

I love ice cream. I have always loved ice cream. But I have noticed my tendency to eat it until my face goes numb and have avoided it. When I’m in Mexico, I walk by an ice cream shop every night, where I have bought ice cream before. It is good. So almost every night, I get to the ice cream shop, I pause, and I ask myself, “Should I get ice cream tonight?”

Dog Treats

I stopped carrying dog treats because I feared that the downtown dogs (or their owners) might not welcome my treats. Maybe they were on a diet (the dogs, I mean). Maybe they had allergies. Maybe they would be suspicious of a strange woman doling out treats.

Sensible Shoes

I was thinking there was really no point in complaining to your husband when you trip on the pavement. It might be your fault, or the fault of the pavement, or the fault of your shoes, but it almost certainly has nothing to do with your husband, and the odds are he is wearing sensible shoes.

Still Family

When I divorced, one of the hardest things to accept was that I was going to lose this family I had been given in marriage, a family I had grown steadily closer to for more than 22 years. But that turned out not to be the case.

Sweeping Confetti

Every evening without fail, the street sweepers are out, sweeping every fleck of confetti and eggshell off the streets, a job that would be tricky under any circumstances, but is made much more difficult because the streets are made of brick and cobblestones.

My Plants Love Me

Like a deeply dysfunctional relationship, my jade plants reward me for forgetting about them, neglecting them, and treating them badly. A near total lack of care and the lowest possible emotional involvement are disproportionately rewarded with growth. The guiltier I feel, the larger they grow.

The Seasons

Yesterday, I went with my mother and father, my aunt, my sister, and four cousins to meet with the funeral director. He was surprised. He had to scout up more chairs. 

Seek the Good

It doesn’t sound like a lot. It seems like a pretty simple thing, actually, not a serious job assignment. It doesn’t sound entirely sensible, and it certainly doesn’t sound pragmatic. But I’m going to seek the good because this morning, it suddenly seemed to me that making a practice of seeking the good is a lot harder than it seems. And possibly, it’s more important than it sounds.

Telling a Story

There are more books printed every day than anyone could possibly read. I have piles of books I intend to read, and the possibility of ever getting to the bottom of the pile seems remote. I am more than a little aware that there is no shortage of reading material.

Tech Savvy

I had visions of an endless line of Indian technicians—stretching as far as the eye could see—ready to write pleasant replies to a witless woman in the US. As I exhausted the patience of one technician, another would step into his place, producing an infinite supply of unfailingly polite and utterly incomprehensible technical jargon.  

Judy Keeps the Door Open

So Judy sat quietly, and so did I. And no one joined us on that cold winter night. And that is how it has been ever since.

Having Coffee

For all the convenience of online communication, nothing can compete with a cup of coffee and a real talk. Because if someone is willing to take the time for a cup of coffee, I think it’s a good sign they would like to be my friend.

More of the Same

I try not to make New Year’s resolutions. All the studies show that motivation wanes by February—if we’re lucky. Changing my life by flipping a switch on December 31st is not a feasible plan.

When Animals Talk

That night of the winter solstice, when the sun set so early and the dark lasted so long would be a good time to remember the animals who had no way of knowing when the sun would be closer or when the days would be warmer or when the darkness would not last so long.

The Right Way To Do Christmas

When I think of presents, I don’t think of stress. I have given my young nephew inappropriately dangerous gifts (what young man does not need a pickaxe?) And I’ve given joke presents (my friend, Andrew, at one time had an impressive collection of shower caps). I love giving presents to pets. I love hearing my mother exclaim, “What on earth…?” as she opens a box.

Gecko Time

Usually within hours, my glands will swell, and I’ll have trouble swallowing. By the next day, I have to breathe through my mouth, and I’m going through boxes of tissues. You know the drill. There is nothing unique or interesting about my transformation into a gecko.

Gratitude Time

I made a total of one quilt, and it took me nine years. I was not, I’m happy to tell you, working on it for nine years. I bought the fabric, cut out the pieces and assembled some of them. Then I stuck them in a box and then let guilt work on me for eight and three-quarter years.

Warm Spots

Mama also does other things, things that Felix really does not like. Mama yells when Felix is on the table (Mouse pretends he does not see him). And—worst of all—Mama gets out the nail clippers and cuts Felix’s beautiful curving claws.