The sun has just risen and I’m outside in my slippers and pajamas using a kitchen knife to no avail. The window screen, so easy to remove a few weeks ago during warmer weather, is firmly stuck, perhaps frozen, in place. The outdoor thermometer hovers around 30 degrees. I go back indoors, open the window and push the screen out, then run back outside with a...
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When I moved to Flagstaff 11 years ago, I marveled at how wonderful it was to see so many people I knew wherever I went. It felt joyful to be able to stop and say hello and chat for a few minutes in the produce section or while walking to dinner with my husband. My friend, a long-time resident, expressed bemusement. “Just you wait,” she told me. “It’s not...
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I’ve been struggling the past few months with a feeling that I’ve come to describe as post-Brooklyn let down. I miss everything about the neighborhood I lived in earlier this summer: The school children down the block, the local book store around the corner (with a fat cat named Tiny) and the roses that grew in small gardens in front of many of the...
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Summer ends earlier for teachers than it does on the calendar, which means that I’m now in peak anxiety season. Not about teaching, which I love. I can hardly wait to get back to the classroom and meet the new students. Instead, I am anxiously thinking about the list of projects I had hoped to complete over the summer with “time off.” Looking at my list...
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I saw the advertisement around February, which is the month when I think I can’t possibly drive the same five miles of Flagstaff anymore: “Studio apartment for rent, Brooklyn.” I wouldn’t say I have many regrets in my life, but there is something like a feeling of absence. I wish I had lived in New York City when I was younger and been an intern...
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