As a feminist conversant with the politics of housework, I tried not to be too preoccupied with clean. Then I learned I was allergic to the dustballs under my marital bed. Read more.
marriage
Confessions of a So-So Wife: The Night I Forgot to Make Dinner
It would be the dinner of my dreams, the married life I’d imagined as a girl back in Detroit. The table would be set, the chicken roasted to a golden brown. Read more.
For Wetter, For Drier — I’m Married to California
Basically, there are two kinds of Californian. Those who are delighted by a sunny February day. And those who are dismayed. Jon is one of the latter. You can chart the weather by Jon’s moods. Read more.
Stalking Superman
There he was. In the flesh. Tall and slender and muscled and oh-so-handsome. Sigh. It was Superman. The Man of Steel of my girlhood fantasies. My dream man. Read more.
Grace Falconer Perlmutter Kleis — How to Be a Glamorous Gal at Age 98
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.
A (Lengthy) Case of the Human Condition: Married 35 Years
Jon Newhall and I have been married for 35 years today. Two kids, one house and lots of rewarding jobs later, we seem to be in it for the long haul. Read more.