This year, my mother, who retired to Mexico fourteen years ago, finally got to witness the insanity of Halloween in my neighborhood.
While our community is not gated, it is relatively safe, a corner of a suburb equidistant from both Dallas and Fort Worth, with a high concentration of owner-occupied…
There’s another cedar box on the table in my living room.
The table in question is a half-circle console table — half an oval, really, because it’s long and skinny. We all grow up with tables like this one — it stands in front of the picture window and holds…
It’s eleven in the morning, and I’m sitting in the DFW airport waiting for the AeroMexico desk to open. “Oh, they show up late,” an airport employee informs me when I approach him for assistance. “Usually around eleven-thirty.”
My flight doesn’t leave until a bit after two, but I’ve been…
It happened five years ago, but it could have been yesterday, or never, or even tomorrow.
My husband and I were on the way back from somewhere — church maybe, improv rehearsal, brunch — it doesn’t matter. We stopped at our neighborhood Starbucks so I could get a mocha (grande…
