How to Run a Disorderly House in 1890 Early New York was littered with prostitution in the late 1800’s. On the streets and in the Bawdy or Disorderly Houses as the cops designated them, prostitution was a booming business. The brothel business abounded not merely because of lust and lawlessness, but because it was [ Read More ]
Bronwyn at three and a half was already a Montessori scholar. Daily she trudged to an enlightened classroom where a teacher who genuinely liked children taught her how to scrub her desk with soapsuds, mess it up with fingerpaint and repeat the process. She was understandably enthralled. So much so, that Cee Cee at 2½ [ Read More ]
I had a very hard time with my Mother, her words mostly wounding, her anger terrifying. It was my father’s kind and loving heart that saved my childhood and my spirit. So when Mother’s Day comes round a tug of war ensues. I feel my heart segue-ing not to memories of my own childhood but [ Read More ]
It all started with a cocktail party conversation about the surprises Middle Age throws at you (hot flashes? Seriously?) and what to do about them – but it ended in everybody glumly deciding a facelift might be the only hope for a happy future after middle age sets in. Nobody admitted to having had any [ Read More ]
I admit it. I loved my hair. All those wild red Irish tresses were as much my signature as the freckles that went with them. By age 30 I knew I’d never let my hair go grey, red was too much part of me. What I didn’t know then was that color would be the [ Read More ]
A snapshot can do it… a store window reflection… a chance remark by a friend. It’s the moment you realize you’re not young anymore. You’re not old either, thank the Lord, just – you know, not young. You don’t feel any different on the inside. But your inside doesn’t match your outside the way it [ Read More ]
Love manifests in the strangest ways. Just like courage. And understanding. Sometimes it sneaks up on you and you don’t realize how great a gift it is or how much self-sacrifice was required of the giver. Until later, much later in the game of life, when you’ve grown old enough to know that nothing is [ Read More ]
I have a beloved sister, Conny, nearly 13 years younger than I. We’re quite different in appearance, profession, proclivities, talents and even in sexual orientation, but in our hearts, we’re pretty much cut from the same cloth. We’ve worked together in one way or another, for a lifetime, certain this is not the first lifetime [ Read More ]
My friends are reaching birthday numbers they thought they’d never have to cope with, taking up Causes or Yoga, planning retirement, talking about their portfolios, their golf game and their cholesterol. They’re also burying their parents, becoming rich and Republican, having grandchildren and heart attacks – and oddest of all, they’re calling themselves Seniors. How [ Read More ]
I recently spent a hilarious afternoon at the hairdresser, as all the women there and the witty, astute owner of the place, shared our strategies for never really seeing ourselves in the mirror again… except, of course, when we’re at the hairdresser and look our absolute best. We each had our own mid-life mirror-avoidance technique [ Read More ]