Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.
Impermanence. It’s a helpful, if not always comfortable, idea: Everything changes. It just does. My Aunt Grace died last month. My son Peter will be married in May. And 56 wind turbines are now up and running on the pristine rural countryside near my father’s birthplace. Read more.
What’s rhetoric? I’ve always thought of it as the high-flown language of politics. But really, it’s something we humans do all the time, and that includes the two-year-old humans among us.
My authentic Austrian Walkjanker jacket has hung forlornly at the far end of a plastic garment bag for decades. It had no place to go till my son got engaged to a Minnesota girl — and I had a chance to show it a good time on a snowy weekend in Minneapolis.
My aunt was tall, red-headed, blue-eyed, self-sufficient and glamorous at a time and place when most women in her hometown wanted nothing more than to get married, have babies and put up green beans and blackberry jam. Read more.
I feel bad about my lip. My upper lip. Nora Ephron felt bad about her neck, a body part she made famous back in 2006 with her book I Feel Bad About My Neck. Nora also felt bad about her frizzy grey hair, parched skin, incipient mustache, flabby upper arms, and tendency toward belly fat. She was getting older.
By Barbara Falconer Newhall I’ve got no words today. I’m out of town visiting a sick — very sick — aunt. And I’m pretty sad. The hospice nurse is not optimistic. My mother and father are gone. Jon’s mother and father are gone. My aunt is the last of the aunts and uncles on both sides […]