Stephanie Klein Greek Tragedy

I‘m feeling anti-social lately, and I think it might have to do with holiday “nesting.” While there’s no baby on the way (I’m eating as if there were), I still feel a strong pull to home, to snuggle with my…

Wassail doesn’t make me think of apples or the brown pulpy foam, or the potpourri you end up ingesting with the quickest of hot pecks. It makes me think of WASPs, sailing. And of ferrets. Because Wassail might as well…

This was our yesterday. It’s one of the things I love about living in Florida. I like the idea of the beach, whether I go or not. I’ve always taken the ocean for granted, growing up in New York. But…

Tomorrow Lucas and Abigail star in their school Thanksgiving performance. They’ve been practicing hard, “standing for a really long time.” I’m arriving early to play photographer to a few classes, capturing the preK Native American love, then sitting stage center…

I’m at the library with books stacked to my chin; it’s the Holiday Preamble, a preface to the pudge, a prologue to the pounds. Planning for the holiday season makes me want to smack my mama and roll her in…

This was totally me. This is the life I’d always imaged from my one-bedroom Upper West Side apartment. I wanted this *right here,* this kid-sopped life of learning, finger paint, and gusto. A life with a smock. And I’m in…

I‘m cranky and tired and don’t feel like adventure, which isn’t like me. Today I went into a Forever 21 inside the Town Center mall, and I found myself letting out a little whine because the Forever 21 here in…

I‘ve learned that there are new neighbors in our development. Hence, the flour and sugar. I happened to have twenty-four Italian prune plums on hand, because, well, that’s just the kind of psycho kitchen I keep. The violet gems aren’t…