What’s in a move, anyway? One of my author friends, who is sorting her office, points out that after the obvious things are put here and there, what’s left could be called The Dregs. If there was an obvious place for the dregs…for this doo-dad or that file or the piece of paper over there…the
We humans seem to like and need hooks to hang our brains on. Since moving to Kansas nine years ago, I’ve found out what people in other states think about Kansas, for instance, and it mostly has to do with The Wizard of Oz although a surprising number of people comment on Kansas as being such
On that complicated and scary ride from the savannah up into the mountains, there was one spot that was scarier than scary, and I can still remember the nightmare I had about it when I was about nine years old. What should be scary about a road, you ask? Well, the Jeep broke down regularly,
Only when I travel do I tend to remember the role that clever, well-planned, well-designed infrastructure plays in getting us the things that matter most in shaping the good life: food, water, work, stories, and the like. Traveling in Ethiopia often has the zing of adventure. I’m thinking today of my brother and good friends who are
My grandma’s grandma was a little girl when her family set out on the Oregon Trail in a covered wagon. Like a lot of people, I’ve long been fascinated by my ancestors’ experiences, and when I wrote I’m Sorry, Almira Ann, I wove in a true story from that trip. Seems when the wagons creaked to a
I didn’t expect to grieve when I left Kansas. Kansas was fine. I like Kansas. We moved there to live close to Leonard’s parents at the end of their lives–and then we moved to Lawrence to add some hands into the pot for Jonathan and Hiwot while they were juggling classes at KU with the leapings and cavortings of
I grew up around kids who were hungry to be in school. For a lot of them, it was a dream that would never happen. Some of them lived too far out in rural areas where a school didn’t exist or teachers wouldn’t go. (In 2000, I climbed a steep path up a cliff to
This reader brought a book with him to the Boston coffee shop where he was planning to have a cup of hot chocolate with me while his mom and I talked. I’d just done an author visit in his school. I’d talked about the power of words. Reading them. Writing them. Listening to them. I’d
So many different patterns ripple through families. In mine? Reading, obviously. A love of books. A sharing of books. But also…gardens. Maji, Ethiopia had a year-round growing season, and my dad was forever coaxing my mom to cook what burst out of the earth there, introducing us to things like kohlrabi and artichokes and water cress. We four sisters tagged
Tea parties–not the political sort–are something that American Girl has managed to bring to a new generation of American girls. Afternoon tea conjures images of elegance and formality, hats and gloves and sweet conversations over sweet nibbles. A chance to do something sumptuous and fun with one’s dear friends. Friends having tea together do not keep glancing
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