The Pie (#91)

It's almost the season for Dad's apple pie...
It’s almost the season for Dad’s apple pie. And flashbacks.

On the weekends, I wake before Andy. I shuffle into the kitchen, turn on the coffee maker, and scoop the oatmeal into bowls. Invariably, one scoop is bigger than the other. Invariably, my hand always reaches for the bigger bowl first.

It is instinctive.

It’s also as unusual as hell. Women – especially in LA – are all about small portions. Continue reading The Pie (#91)

Such Devoted Sisters (#46)


One of my sisters is a year older than I am. One of my sisters is a year younger. Older Sister is petite. I am not. By the time she was four and I was three, we were frequently mistaken for twins. I loved it. She hated it. Continue reading Such Devoted Sisters (#46)

%d bloggers like this: