Last week, a dear friend of mine from childhood texted me to let me know that her mother had died. I’d known her – and, by extension, her mother – since I was in the third grade. During our awkward, formative years my friend and I and a cadre of other girls (equally nerdy and well-behaved, for the most…
– I did not enjoy my visit to the Miami Beach Holocaust Memorial at all. I suppose that’s the point. I doubt anyone leaves a Holocaust memorial thinking, “Wowzers! That was fun!” But the memorial in Miami Beach is different from others I’ve visited. Whereas others have often made me feel contemplative and solemn, this…
The Miami Beach Botanical Garden was a bit of a disappointment. – Having grown up in Florida, I can tell you that all manner of strange things grow in that state, and that the climate lends itself to being tropical and creepy. I remember once while my mother was gardening, she came across a tiny…
Rand and I went to Miami and Boston for a few days last month. Rather than lug my camera, I decided to just take photos on my cell phone. I’m not entirely sure if I’m pleased with the results. I suspect that I won’t leave my Canon at home again. – I moved to Central…
In my family, I have six male cousins, all of whom are older than me. Add to the mix my big brother, and I was left the sole girl amongst 7 boys. –
It is the first Monday of the new year, and I am sure many of you, like me, are in the throes of a rather nasty vacation hangover. I can picture you, wherever you may find yourself (at the office; in a minivan full of children you don’t really know or like; in central holding…
– Elementary school was not an easy time for me. I know, you’re shocked, right? I mean, who wouldn’t want to be friends with a 70-pound girl with an adult-sized nose? (Quote from my friend Peter: “You must have looked like a pterodactyl.”) Plus, I was awesome. My incomplete Babysitter’s Club book collection, my gender-bending…
It seems so odd that I’m doing a round-up of photos from Florida, of all places. I lived there for years. I might as well do a photo round-up of my own house. Actually, come to think of it, I have done that. Aaaaaaaand on that note, here’s ten photos from that strange and magical…
– As a kid, I never understood the expression “You can’t go home again”. I thought it was idiotic. After sleepovers at friends’ houses, after long afternoons at band practice, after a week at SeaCamp (oh, don’t act so surprised: I was and still am a dork), home was always waiting for me. No matter…
Tales of Food, Feminism, and Fury
by Geraldine DeRuiter
Available Now!
In Hardback, e-book, and audiobook from these booksellers:
