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Ticket stubs. Letters. Cards. Calendars. Programs. Coupons. Clippings. Receipts. Postcards. Documents. Photographs. Scraps of paper inscribed with handwritten notes or lists—some hopelessly illegible. Everything else relegated to be out of sight, out of mind until the mythical far-off day “when I have time.” Why have I felt compelled to save so much stuff over the…
Last Saturday, I attended a Tea where Vanda Krefft spoke about her book—a history of the Katharine Gibbs School. Invited by a good friend, I enthusiastically accepted. The Tea was a fundraiser for the local AAUW (American Association of University Women) scholarship program. Plus, I had a special interest in the topic. Krefft spoke about…
Don’t Just Sit There Scrolling: Do Something!
Good grief, I don’t want to be writing about Donald Trump. I have so many other things I want to do with my days. I have a book I’m trying to get published. I have bins and bins of papers I dragged from Milton, Massachusetts, to Manhattan Beach, California, ten years ago. These are things…
MY FRIEND’S DAD WAS A SCREAMING EAGLE. WHO KNEW?
When you start asking questions, you get some astonishing answers. Our friend, Rick Sirois, told us quite a few years ago that he and his brother had come upon military medals and ribbons in a shoebox found in their father’s desk drawer. The two brothers decided to put all of this memorabilia into a shadow…