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When she appeared on our Evanston doorstep the morning my parents left for the West Coast, I thought we were in for big trouble: Keyes was as wide as our refrigerator and wore gold-rimmed, granny glasses on the brim of her nose as black as molasses. Like everyone else, we never knew her first name. My mother found her with the help of Mary...
The long, jagged crystals look like light blue icicles, hanging there from the roof of the cave as they reflect the watery depth of 55 feet. It is beautiful, delicate, and eerie at the same time – a subterranean palace of precious mineral nestled beneath the warm, pink sands of Bermuda. Though they were visited by Mark Twain, you won’t necessarily know the Crystal ...
I trace the short curve of the neck, crest of the head, and “s” shape of the flying geese, admiring the fine stitching and light, puffy cotton. There are alternate shades of light and dark, yellow and green -- floral patterns in triangles bordered by the darker print and secured with ...
Our family telescope sits in a silver tripod close to the early red geraniums, their green leaves fuzzy against my kneecaps. I am barely tall enough to look through the lens, hoping to examine the fine details of the Moon as she passes between the Earth and the Sun w...
We take turns sketching articles of clothing. I am copying my daughter’s favorite summer dress – a simple spaghetti strap that flows to mid calf  in a beautiful sunset of yellow, orange, and rose – set off by her sparkly starfish necklace. Pleased, she dr...
The Applecross Peninsula spans some 80,000 beautiful, rugged acres in the Scottish highlands, known for being part of the Dockland Settlements and for its Gaelic name, “a Chomraich” or “The Sanctuary”. Under the care of Lt. Flight Commander J. Shelton, Warden of the West Highland Advent...
It can be said that Renee Cherow-O’Leary, Founder and President of Education for the 21st Century, began -- to use her expression --by “mining the zeitgeist” or spirit of the age.  With enthusiasm she exhibited a stack of modern magazines, citing examples of ...
From the third floor landing I hear a surprising, yet bewitchingly familiar piece: Hitchcock’s Marionette Theme, aka Charles Gounod’s Funeral March of a Marionette. Fingers nimbly pluck the strings of the violin, viola, and cello like master puppeteers rhythmically walking a Lafleur, Guignol, or Pulcinella across the stage. Mahoga...
The message I’m composing disappears like a genie in a bottle. Words vaporize into the monitor, the unfinished sentence tilted in the air like an italicized question mark. I look up and see the fluorescent lights flickering, punctuated by the sighs of nearby librarians. The mustard brown air conditioners rattle like arthritic snakes, then dr...
It is July 9.  We are rolling up I-95 in Betty Blue, a leather-seated 1964 vintage Mercedes, and listening, windows down, hair flying, to the sultry sound of the Gipsy Kings, a Spanish-language music group from Provence, France. Foxboro Stadium is hosting the 1994 World Cup semi-finals between