Archive for the ‘essay’ Category

Jamberry by Bruce DeganOnce upon a time two little girls snuggled next to their mom every evening for bedtime stories.

When they were very young, they giggled at “raspberry, jazzberry, razzmatazzberry” and bid goodnight to the moon. As they grew older, they dodged drizzling meatballs and chased the stinky cheese man. Enchanted not only by words but also by pictures in their storybooks, the girls hunted for hidden hedgehogs and stopped in the woods on a snowy evening.

It’s been a long time since I read aloud to my daughters—both are now in their twenties—but lately I’ve been thinking about that time we spent together.

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Photo source: http://www.harpercollins.com/books/Jamberry-Bruce-Degen/?isbn=9780060214166

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Some people check into Boston’s stately old Parker House Hotel while on business or as tourists. Others frequent its restaurant to sample the famous rolls and the original recipe for Boston Cream Pie. I visited the Parker House to peer into an old mirror, hoping that Charles Dickens might peer back out at me.

I’ve loved Dickens since I read A Christmas Carol, A Tale of Two Cities, and Great Expectations in junior high. I’m hardly alone, of course—there are thousands of Dickensians around the globe. Venturing beyond the books, Dickens’ fans also frequent fellowships and fairs, memorials and museums, pubs and web pages and even a theme park in Kent, England. When I discovered there was a Dickens Room at the Parker House—in the midst of those dedicated to Emerson, Hawthorne, and Longfellow—I wanted to see it for myself.

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Old fashioned

Old FashionedLast Valentine’s Day, my husband Tom and I took a meandering ride along Cape roads in search of a romantic restaurant. (We’re spoiled by how many times we’ve found perfect places by chance.) After conceding that February might not yield the full range of charming spots, we settled at a well-known if not entirely dreamy restaurant.

Drinks? The waitress was visibly impressed when Tom ordered his standard martini: very dry, Sapphire gin, olive. She turned to me. My drink challenge was on.

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