What we practice becomes part of who we are.
This morning, I started writing sitting on a seawall where my young son was fishing. Computer out, glasses on, skin tan, and my hair a
Recently, my older son wrote a story that he has entered in a contest. He is a good writer and the story has a strong
Thanksgiving Last spring I stopped writing. There was both too much and too little to say in a season so rich with disappointment. Grant application
On this trip to Shanghai, my husband was the main event. He was teaching at the law school and it was great fun to have
It is gray and wintery outside, “December” is playing on my Ipod, and I’m finishing up odds and ends before heading home to celebrate the