The Real Dishwasher

Tonight I unloaded the dishwasher which my husband had set going earlier - three dirty plates out of a very sparse load. Already cranky about having written nothing, I swore to myself and ran a sinkful of hot sudsy water, plugged in a podcast about the rediscovery of Hitler's Horses and set to, laying out … Continue reading The Real Dishwasher →

In the Music School

There's the little girl whose shoes are shorter than my hands; who stands on tiptoe to see through the windowed door; whose fingers on the keys sound confident and strong; whose mother cups the back of her daughter's head protectively; or is she just keeping warm from that tiny spring of energy? There's the tall … Continue reading In the Music School →