How to Picnic à la Française
I had forgotten that the typical French student never packs a sack lunch and wrinkles her nose at the suggestion of peanut butter and jelly.
Fieldnotes from the Potty Chair
Sure, this undertaking’s not quite as advanced as rebuilding the Six Million Dollar Man—though that price tag might just be in the ballpark for the cost of diapers.
It’s Just Basil
All was well for a couple of weeks. Pizzas were delicious. Eggs were delicious. Fresh herbs were right on my windowsill, and I was keeping them alive.
Fantastic Beasts: Field Guide
Her jaw snaps decisively at the treat offered to her and I immediately recognize that jaw’s ability to snap me decisively in half if the opportunity arose.
Going Home
I am no stranger to nostalgia. My mom tells me that when I was younger I used to hug the Christmas tree after it had been taken down and dragged to the curb.
The House
I felt helpless and a bit stupid standing out there in the dark. It dawned on me that this wasn’t like my childhood doll house or some story I was just making up.
Nala
Fortunately, Nala rather liked me as well, which was very good news because Nala was not always the easiest cat to deal with in her younger years.
The Small Things That Scare Us
Ticks are tiny mini-monsters, basically the equivalent of the radioactive spider that bit Peter Parker except they carry Lyme disease and not superpowers.
Lessons in Monstrosity
I know it’s illegal, but do I care enough to prevent it when I see it? Does he want us to stop him? Will saying something be more trouble than it’s worth?
Revise, Revise
When an idea is still inside me and dormant, I can control it completely. Once I let the beast go, it seems much tamer and so much more trivial.
