Cold as a Witch’s Titty
So my daughter used to say with a naughty smirk on her face. She was probably 8th grade, that age when children all of a sudden become aware of what makes adults laugh and then think better of it. Witches’ … Continued
So my daughter used to say with a naughty smirk on her face. She was probably 8th grade, that age when children all of a sudden become aware of what makes adults laugh and then think better of it. Witches’ … Continued
For sadness because my oldest lovely is gone, yet looking through the trees out back, I see her face hovering in the pine branches… Thankful that she, Eleonora, had such loving care in Delaware, even through a topsy-turvy break, six … Continued
I’ve been struck by what I call The Documentary Impulse and now, I’m trying to inspire masters students to allow themselves to do the same. This is creating something of a quandary. What worked for Daniel Defoe in the early … Continued
Three thousand miles up, I’m sometimes at a loss for things to do. Recently, flying home from Italy via Amsterdam, I started reading the KLM packaging. Not only did the flight magazine tell me that Amsterdam’s Concertgewau orchestra hall is … Continued
“My home is my castle” makes me think of an impregnable, guarded estate, high above the plebs. That might work for some city or suburban neighborhoods but not for mine in Saint Paul. Here with lots leaving about ten feet … Continued
Margotlog: Orchestras on the Slide: A Tale of Two Cities “The Twin Cities were separate at birth and far from identical,” I wrote in a novel called Falling for Botticelli (not yet published). Yet sometimes these separate cities suffer similar … Continued
For years “bat attacks” in my Minnesota residences wrought terror so extreme I was reduced to a quivering mass. What! Malevolent creatures flying across the moon, then swooping into my hair! Didn’t they carry rabies? On dark winter nights, I … Continued
My yearly summer jaunt up to the North Shore of Lake Superior used to run me home through a lazy blizzard of black and orange–not Iowa Hawkeye footballers, but Monarch butterflies on their way south and west. This year, I … Continued
Yes, we’ve had a few in our Saint Paul house over the years. One crept across the dining room floor, almost under Fluffy’s legs. She, the aged Maine Coon cat, sniffed at the tiny intruder, Fran scooped it up and … Continued