Sheltering in Place: A Family Drama

SHELTERING IN PLACE: A FAMILY DRAMA  (This essay originally posted on the website for WHYY in Philadelphia as “Snow Days.”  Just substitute “shelter-in-place” for winter storm warnings and snow days, and you have the same idea.)

The Day Before – Hello.  This is The School calling to inform you that, due to the upcoming winter storm warning, school will not be in session tomorrow.  Please do not drop your child off at school “accidentally,” on your way to your Pilates class, and then claim later that you never got this call.  You know who you are.  And so do we.  This message will now repeat.

Day One a.m. – What a rare treat to have the little darlings home for a day.  I will use this unexpected gift of time and make it a special day.  Outside the weather may be frightful, but our day will be quite delightful.  First, I’ll make everyone heart-shaped pancakes, then we’ll snuggle up and watch a family movie.  Or two movies – after all, we have all day!  We can bake cookies later, then maybe a few games of Monopoly.  Just some good old-fashioned family time.

Day One p.m.  – The school called again with one of those damn robo-calls.  Blah, blah, blah winter storm.  I mean, when I was a kid we didn’t have “snow days.”  And that was before global warming, when we used to have real snow.  Hubbie was telling the kids the story of how he used to deliver newspapers on his bike in snowstorms worse than this.  Then he got all grumpy because they walked out of the room during the part where he had to dig in the snow when he dropped his dime tip from Mrs. Gianetti.

Day Two – Slightly hung over.  I didn’t think I drank that much, but the recycle bin doesn’t lie.  The day I start hiding bottles is the day I will admit I have a problem.  But I know I don’t, so what’s the big deal.  Hubbie is home today also, because no one can get anywhere.  I can’t think of the last time we were all together with no chance for escape!  We have decided today will be “Puzzle Day.”  That is because no one will play Monopoly again with H.  I didn’t know this when I married him, but he has an irritating tendency to gloat when he has one over on you.  He actually cackled with glee when he bankrupted sweet little J.  She cried and asked, “Why is Daddy being so mean?”  I said I didn’t know.

Day Three – When the school message came in again last night I wanted to take the phone and smash it to a pulp.  No wonder our kids are lagging behind third world countries in education.  Today I will insist on everyone (including H) leaving the house to get some fresh air.  I don’t care if it is a wind chill of ten below.  Maybe they can build a snow house and all go live there.  Just kidding.  Not really.  Only eleven hours until cocktail hour.  I will not lessen my personal standards just because the city is in crisis.  Things could be a lot worse.  I just saw a news report of a couple stranded in a Best Western with no heat or food.  Uncharitably, I thought to myself, at least they’re not with H!

Day Four – Saturday, and the sun is finally out.  Unfortunately, the snow is now blowing sideways, and due to drifting, no one can get anywhere.  I told H that maybe he could get his trusty bike out and cycle on down to Whole Foods, just like when he had his paper route.  Luckily I bought the 1.75 liter size of Bombay Sapphire the day before the storm hit.  A stroke of brilliance, if I do say so.  Gotta go – I’m the Bingo caller for the family Bingo tournament, and quite possibly the only person in this family who doesn’t cheat.

Day Five – I never realized it before, but in certain unfortunate ways, my children seem to have inherited many of H’s family’s habits and personality quirks.  Nose-picking, slack-jawed staring off into space when being asked to help with chores, the aforementioned cheating (even at Candy Land, for Christ’s sake), nervous throat clearing, and an inability to tell when they’ve worn an article of clothing too many days in a row without putting it in the dirty laundry.  I really don’t know how much longer I can take it.  I had to stay on the Elliptical from noon until six o’clock just to keep myself away from the liquor cabinet.

Day Six – Just saw a news report that nine months from now there will be a big blip in the population with a whole lot of  “blizzard babies” being born.  I glowered at H as he sat playing video poker in his ratty bathrobe.  The gin is gone.  Don’t know if I can go on much longer.

Day Seven – Yippee!  Everyone back to school and work today.  Little J asked why Mommy was so happy, and I said because I love you and your brother and Daddy so much.  So, so much.

 

 

So Many Memoirs, So Little Time…

img_0098Like most people who love to read, it seems that everyone in my close circle of friends and family also loves to read.  Maybe it’s as simple as “like attracting like” – we just naturally gravitate toward those people who share our same basic overall interests and world view.  I find this especially true when it comes to books and reading.  I was brought up in a family of readers, so that circle is already a given.  My mother and sisters and I are frequenters of libraries and bookstores, and always have been. But friends are a bit different – we don’t ask friends, in the beginning of a friendship – if they are readers, or what their reading tastes are like.  But mostly, in my life, my closest loved ones and friends have been great readers.

Lately, because I have been working on a memoir about being a sister, I have been reading a lot of memoirs.  And I mean A LOT.  And I’m not just reading them to see how other writers have tackled the writing of memoir, but because I love them.  I love reading them.  However, when I correspond with agents, they are often likely to say “the memoir market is really a tough sell.” Or, “I’m just not looking at (or selling) memoirs right now.”  And yet there are, indeed, really great memoirs being published regularly.

And, since whenever a friend or family member asks me if I can recommend a good memoir (and I can never remember off the top of my head what I have just read) I decided to write down a list (of course it will never be complete) of memoirs I have read and thoroughly enjoyed, either recently or in the not-too-distant past.  I hope you read them all too…

(P. S.  This list doesn’t even include some of my favorite memoirs of all time, which I will re-visit some other day.  Although This Boy’s Life by Tobias Wolff would likely top that list, and the movie also – with heartbreaking, brilliant performances by a very young Leonardo DiCaprio, and Robert De Niro.)

These are all pretty recent, and in no way a complete list: Inheritance (and all her books) by Dani Shapiro, Educated by Tara Westover, Small Fry by Lisa Brennan-Jobs, Rough Beauty by Karen Auvinen, After the Eclipse by Sarah Perry, Becoming by Michelle Obama, Priestdaddy by Patricia Lockwood, The Hot One by Carolyn Murnick, The Recovering by Leslie Jamison, A Girl’s Guide to Missiles by Karen Piper, Home Before Dark by Susan Cheever, Heartland by Sarah Smarsh, Old in Art School by Nell Painter, Beauty in the Broken Places by Allison Pataki, Unforgettable by Scott Simon, Jello Girls by Allie Rowbottom, Where the Past Begins by Amy Tan, The Best of Us by Joyce Maynard, Coming to My Senses by Alice Waters, A Beautiful. Terrible Thing by Jen Waite, My Life With Bob by Pamela Paul, Once We Were Sisters by Sheila Kohler, The Way We Weren’t by Jill Talbot, The Bridge Ladies by Betsy Lerner, Welcome to Shirley by Kelly McMasters, Mennonite in a Little Black Dress by Rhoda Janzen, Beer Money by Frances Stroh

A Bird’s-Eye View

A Bird’s-Eye View (a new essay about the writing life)

“Maybe you just need some distance.” Words often offered as a gentle suggestion when perhaps your writing isn’t going as planned. Maybe you’ve even said these words to yourself. You keep re-reading the same pages, changing a word or a sentence. Then putting the original word back in. Looking at other drafts and deciding you should have stayed with Draft #3. Or maybe Draft #5 is better. Or maybe…

Therein madness lies. Or at the very least, frustration.

But you have to stick with it, don’t you? Persevere. Now’s not the time to wimp out. You always knew that Draft #2 was your best. Maybe the ending from #4 could be tacked onto Draft #2 somehow. That ending was really good. Some of your best work. Continue reading