Tag Archives: childhood memories

Ties

When I was a little girl, about four or five years old, my father went away on a trip to Florida. I only vaguely understood the purpose of the trip, but it was related to the construction or remodeling of … Continue reading

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Intimates

Occasionally it becomes necessary to buy new underwear. Elastic frays, fabric thins, straps break, and finally one’s listless little heap of lingerie seems sad and barely functional. This observation prompted me to take a trip to Macy’s last week, where … Continue reading

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Brooklyn Again

There were glimmers from my childhood days as we walked the New York streets, but I often felt like a visitor from another dimension. We were staying in an apartment at the edge of the neighborhood in Brooklyn where I grew … Continue reading

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On Labor Day

My father aspired to be a doctor. I still have in my possession a letter from St. Francis College outlining the requirements for a pre-med course of study, sent in response to his hopeful inquiry. The 1920s were drawing to … Continue reading

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Our Rashomon…And A Child’s Touching Faith

This post is connected to yesterday’s blog of holiday reflections prompted by a photograph from 1962. I also shared the picture on Facebook, and two of my siblings commented. The sister who was a toddler in my father’s lap in that photo was obviously too … Continue reading

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September

To me, the first day of any month is its own little New Year’s Day…an arbitrary new beginning to reinstate good habits and work towards whatever goals I keep envisioning and abandoning. I guess I’m pretty practiced at failing, but I’m … Continue reading

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Amos and the Dinosaur

And now for something whimsical and wistful. In case you can’t tell, the blob to the upper left is a dinosaur, and the dinosaur is pursuing the brave boy on the brick wall who happens to be wearing a fedora and … Continue reading

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Våryr

It’s often the seemingly random confluences and serendipities of life that keep me charmed and, as the blog name says, still amazed. Case in point: Janet-with-the-yellow-braid, who was in my 4th grade class. You met her here in this post … Continue reading

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Whose Brooklyn?

This morning Monte sent me a link to this article from the New York Times about Brooklyn. It’s something I have thought about often, how cities are organic, how they change over time as cultures develop and demographics shift and different … Continue reading

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Cookie and May and the Rest of Them Too

May was a haggard-looking woman and Cookie her thin pale little daughter. I haven’t uttered their names since 1958, and their whereabouts and outcomes are unknown, but they lived two doors away from us on Coney Island Avenue. Sometimes in … Continue reading

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