Being landlocked is no excuse for shirking one’s duties.

Photo by Sander Lenaerts on Unsplash

6:00 A.M.: Rise. Check the redness of the sky to see if you should begin the day with delight or with wariness.

6:30 A.M.: Put on thick cabled sweater. (And any wooden limbs, if applicable.) Inspect beard for remnants of last night’s chowder.

7:00 A.M.: Eat breakfast: 20 whole lemons with peel to ward off scurvy, cold brew, a little rum.

7:30 A.M.: Hoist the Wi-Fi. Enlist your child/Cabin Boy if you need help. (If you prefer to use a gender-neutral form of address, you may substitute “Cabin Youth” or “Sea Urchin.”)

8:30 A.M.: Attend Zoom meeting with the crew…


Eating for two isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

(image by pixabay)

I’ll be honest: I never thought this would happen to me. I wasn’t one of those sweet little girls who would shove a babydoll up her shirt and say, “Look, Mommy! I’m Satan’s Concubine!” But just a few months ago, there I was: twenty-eight, married, and the unwitting vessel for Asmodeus, Unclean King of the Nine Hells. I hadn’t even finished law school yet!

They say your first one is the hardest — especially if it’s unplanned. But no one really prepared me for what it would be like to be splayed out, nightgown hiked to my hips, in front…


So Free! So full of Wonder!

The feeling when you’ve ditched your corset.

7:00 AM — A beam of light enters through the curtains and crosses my face at a flattering angle. I hasten to the bathroom, before it is monopolized by one of my thirty-seven unmarried sisters.

7:30 AM — I wash my unblemished face with cold water. I am a willowy brunette and, therefore, plain. This pleases me.

8:00 AM — Who is at the breakfast table? Dear Cousin Jamie! My childhood companion, now grown tall and fine! (Though I care not.) I steal a piece of his toast and set his cap atop my head at a rakish angle. He…


(photo by R. Fiend/Wikimedia)

Dear Family and Friends of the First-Grade Class of William Shoemaker Elementary,

Under direct pressure from the school board, I am writing to say I’m sorry that many of you were upset by last evening’s Kiddie Winter Pageant. You must understand that — even for the two-time best Primary School Dramaturg in the San Marino metropolitan area — planning a non-denominational, non-commercialized holiday performance is a tough nut to crack. “Mervyn,” I asked myself, “How can we speak to an audience of diverse faiths and cultures? How can we top last year’s ‘Sugarplum Fairyland’? …

Amanda Lehr

A skeleton with some meat on it. Writing out of Brooklyn, NY. Follow her on Twitter at @am_lehr.

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