In the schoolyard, two boys — at least kindergarten, possibly preschool. They work crouch-balanced along the far auditorium wall, fistfuls of found sticks being arranged carefully against the brick, occasionally reconfigured after conspiratorial whisper, guarded… Read The Post
All my bridal wisdom, given freely to you today: marry quietly, party months afterward. Nearly a year ago now I remember writing Olivia, dreaming up the kind of reception you may have stumbled into 50… Read The Post
SERIES THREE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You guys I don’t even like exclamation points okay this is for serious frenzy-feels only and if TWO YEARS’ PATIENCE doesn’t deserve a little extra punctuation then really I don’t know what does…. Read The Post
Horatio Hornblower and his Lady Sea, featuring H.M.S. Indefatigable At least 17% of our Rhondeau/Morgan-husband/wife compatibility comes from our shared ability to light on an idea and become immediately, irredeemably obsessed with said idea,… Read The Post
People say wedding days are perfect, and that is because they are right. I have never been to a not-perfect wedding ever, and in my case I imagined perfect and then found it to be… Read The Post
self portrait with turkey feathers. in class on a holiday. to distract me because I needed it. that is all.
Last week, Veteran’s Day, another eleven I love. And I like how it is done here, how weeks of reminding lead up to the big remembrance. At street corners and subway stops, next to the… Read The Post
An afternoon drive up Little Mountain, before I catch a plane across the pond.
Yes! It’s true! As of right-now-this-minute-these-words my pint-sized place on the interwebs is one hundred and eleven posts old. Cool! You say. Fantastic! And also Why does this matter? Well, here are some things: → One is my lucky… Read The Post