High Winds

Last Wednesday afternoon, a storm packing high wind gusts blew in, downing trees and deck furniture. Our dogs sought comfort from Keith—I was in Charlottesville—and hid in the basement. On my drive home that day, and upon arrival, I found evidence of the storm’s...

New Year’s Do-Over

Smells of gingerbread and sugar cookies no longer waft from kitchens. Sweaters with reindeer flying across their chests tuck away in bureau drawers. Red, green and white decorations return to boxes and bags stored under basement stairs. The Christmas holiday has...

Moments and Memoir

It’s two o’clock on a Saturday afternoon at WriterHouse in Charlottesville, and I’m the Open Hours volunteer. Since a lively creative nonfiction class meets in the small classroom next to the reception desk, I plop my purse, travel mug with green tea and iPad on the...