Many of us are lucky to have people around us who understand or at least support our writing habits and dreams. Even with the best support, I sometimes feel like my writing is inconsequential in the face of so many pressing world problems. Do you ever feel like your writing doesn’t matter? Do ever think […]
Sara Etgen-Baker
March 8 – The Lady in Red
In retrospect, I never quite understood Mother’s fascination with her decades-old red pantsuit. It was her prized possession, her lifesaver, and her go-to garment elevated above all others in her wardrobe. To me, it was a run-of-the-mill wash and wear outfit—nothing exceptional about it. Yet, for some unknown reason, she was drawn to that outfit […]
February 8 – I Forgot the Grandchildren
When I was young, people asked: “Why don’t you have kids?” I usually muttered back something smart-alecky like: “I had one, but I forgot where I put it.” When it was too late to conceive, people asked me that same question, but in the past tense with outrage: “How come you never had kids?!?” They […]
January 4 – The Puppeteer and His Marionettes
There was a freezing chill in the January air. Rosy-cheeked, Grammy and I stood in line stomping our feet to keep warm, pulling our wool hats over reddened ears, and tightening our scarves around our necks. At noon the theater door opened and a black-caped man announced: “Welcome to Le Theatre de Marionette.” We edged […]
December 7 – Adventures in Home Economics Class
Before the Internet, fast food restaurants, and takeout, high school girls of my generation took home economics class. It was one of the few electives available to us girls in 1968. Boys didn’t take home economics. It just didn’t happen, and by all counts may even have been illegal. We girls didn’t take shop class. […]
November 9 – Thank you, Roget
I glanced in the rearview mirror of my father’s pickup truck and watched as the city and the interstate slowly disappeared from my view. An hour and a half later, we exited the interstate and meandered our way down two-lane country roads through the East Texas countryside where cotton bolls were ripe for picking and […]