Shows
The PostscriptA Little StuckThere’s a story Stephen King tells about his first novel, “Carrie,” my more frightening namesake. The novel, to hear him tell it, was in the wastebasket. (This was in the days when documents were made of real paper and went into actual wastebaskets.) His wife, Tabitha, pulled the pages out, brushed off the cigarette ashes, and read them. She thought they were good. She encouraged him to continue. He did, and the rest is history.
2024-12-3005 minThe PostscriptWaiting for EstefanEstefan is an older gentleman with a broad smile, and he was sitting at a sewing machine improbably parked in a tiny spot behind the beverage cooler. Estefan said he would be delighted to sew a sofa cover for us. He came to look at the sofa. He borrowed a tape measure from Peter, and he wrote a lot of numbers down on a pad of paper. Then he left with Peter’s pen in his pocket.
2024-04-2205 minThe PostscriptSpring ColdIt always starts in the same way. I get a sore throat. First, I ignore it. I have found this is the best way to deal with imminent disasters. When I used to drive old cars, I would turn up the radio when I heard an ominous noise. Loud music and deliberate ignorance can take you for many miles.
2024-04-1505 minThe PostscriptBonanza!There is cheese by the slice and wine and pickles and cookies and toothpicks. The only things they don’t sell at Bonanza are fresh breads, vegetables and meat—because you know you are supposed to go to the proper store to get those.
2024-04-1405 minThe PostscriptPerfection“There is nothing as nice as a crisp cotton sheet” is what my mother would say.
She hangs her sheets out on the line to this day, and perhaps that’s what got me thinking about perfection. Perfection has to be imperfect enough to notice it, to enjoy it, to make me pay attention.
2024-04-0105 minThe PostscriptLiving with a CatLiving with a cat, you start to eye gravity with suspicion. Small items that appeared to be securely in place must be scrutinized, as if living under the imminent threat of a major earthquake. Living with a cat is like living in a spaceship. Items cannot be expected to remain where they are put. Everything needs to be put inside something else to prevent it from floating away or, more accurately, batted around the house at 3 AM.
2024-03-2505 minThe PostscriptUsefulMaybe my writing will make somebody smile. Maybe someone will feel less alone. Maybe it will be used to line the bottom of a birdcage. But whatever happens, I’m hoping it will be useful in some small way.
2024-03-1804 minThe PostscriptRod Stewart HairRod Stewart has the untidiest hair you’re likely to find on an octogenarian (outside a long-term senior care facility), and I decided he was my new role model.
2024-03-1104 minThe PostscriptWhat Cats LikeI’ve had several cats but, as far as I can remember, I had never made breakfast for any of them. Peter scrambled up an egg and gave Felix part of it. Felix loved scrambled eggs. Then Peter got reading up on what else cats like.
2024-03-0404 minThe PostscriptA Borrowed Plate“We have a tradition in Mexico,” Jorge told us, in English. “When you are given a plate with food, you must return it with a gift. This is what we do with our family and our friends.”
2024-02-2605 minThe PostscriptA New Life for Felix“What was that?” Peter asked. Peter sleeps with earplugs when we are in Mexico, but the noise outside our bedroom woke him. I went to investigate. It appeared there had been some small-scale vandalism in the night. The garbage can had been mysteriously overturned and bits of crumbled bread were all over the floor.
2024-02-1904 minThe PostscriptDonuts in the Middle of the DayI explained to the baker (to the best of my ability) that I had a meeting at 2:00 and I would love to bring “sweets” to the meeting. The meeting, I added, was with Americans. (There will also be several Canadians, but I decided not to complicate things.) I could tell he sensed the problem. This man looked as if he’d been baking things long enough to have heard of the eccentricities of Americans.
2024-02-1204 minThe PostscriptA Piece of CakeGetting a piece of cake in the middle of the day adds some unexpected sweetness to the day. Peter and I don’t speak enough Spanish to know how to tell these people how grateful we are, how at home we feel, and how much their everyday kindness means to us.
2024-02-0505 minThe PostscriptEnoughWe’ll be staying in our little one-bedroom apartment, and I’ll be writing at my little green Formica desk. It’s not the fanciest place. It’s nowhere near as nice as the homes of most of our friends. But every night our landlord, Jorge, will greet us and the colorful suns hanging from the walls around us will smile at us and we will know we have everything we need.
2024-01-2904 minThe PostscriptStill SingingRight outside the elevator doors, they started singing the Frank Sinatra tune, “Don’t Blame Me.” The setting might not have been the most romantic, but the acoustics were perfect. Those barbershop singers brought tears to my eyes.
2024-01-2205 minThe PostscriptMaking ProgressIt turns out that no one cares if I stay up too late eating toffee. There is no editorial committee reviewing my statements from the previous day, informing me of how they might have been more clever or less embarrassing.
2024-01-1505 minThe PostscriptSharing a StoryWhen I see typewriters, rather than experiencing a pleasant nostalgia, I feel something closer to dread.
2024-01-0804 minThe PostscriptRed Squirrel ThoughtsI wondered how much we could ever know about a little red squirrel. We pretend he thinks just like us and we know, of course, this is not true. But I know he was watching, and I was glad he was there, on this day my mom was not feeling her best. I don’t know what he was pondering as he sat there, his fingers knit together, looking earnestly into the window. But he seemed very intent, as if he was contemplating something.
2024-01-0104 minThe PostscriptYear End AmbitionsThe biggest change I would like to make in the new year is to stop behaving as if I have all the time in the world. While I don’t know how much time I have, (and I hope it is still considerable), none of us knows. I’d like to be a little gentler on myself in this new year. I’d like to treat myself like a person who is not going to live forever—simply because I am not.
2023-12-2504 minThe PostscriptWild ChildrenThere are so many troubles I have never known. There is a world of pain I have never experienced. While I was dwelling on a couple of hastily dressed kids with messy hair quietly doodling in the front pew, there were wells of pain and loss and confusion right in front of me that I could not imagine.
2023-12-1805 minThe PostscriptDressing Up for ChristmasAuntie Jo would head downstairs to wrap presents and, at some point, their dog, Twinkie, would make a mad dash out the door. We’d all scour the neighborhood until we found Twinkie. Then Auntie Jo would go to change her clothes and emerge, more resplendent than the Christmas tree.
2023-12-1105 minThe PostscriptPalazzo PantsI tried to imagine where I would wear these pants, and nothing came to mind. I could imagine them swishing around my ankles. I would wear platform shoes and enormous hoop earrings. I imagined the person I would be, wearing palazzo pants, and a whole new world opened up before me. A world that, in actual fact, did not exist.
2023-12-0404 minThe PostscriptA Few WordsI wished I had a few more words. I wished I could understand just a bit better. I no longer care if I use the wrong form of a verb, or forget a word, or say something embarrassing. It makes no difference at all. What I care about, more than ever, is being able to understand these people—my new friends.
2023-11-2705 minThe PostscriptA Thanksgiving PrayerMy mother's family was a Swedish farming family and we asked for strength to keep on working. Feasting in Paradise might have been fine for some, but that was a little more than any of us could imagine. Asking for strength so we could keep on doing what we had been doing seemed like a pretty safe bet and, perhaps, not too much to ask.
2023-11-2005 minThe PostscriptA Perfect CupThis cup holds more than my coffee. This cup holds the memories I am making, day by day, sip by sip, as I sit at my desk in Mexico. It holds the bright markets and the feel of the round cobblestone streets beneath my feet and the smiles of the countless friendly people I meet every day.
2023-11-1305 minThe PostscriptDietary ChoicesI tried to tell him that I don’t make dietary choices for anyone but myself. But then I realized this was not quite true.
2023-11-0605 minThe PostscriptFancy New GlovesThere is no need to save these gloves for a special day. Because this day—this going to church together and having coffee and sharing pastries and plans day—was as special as any day could be.
2023-10-3005 minThe PostscriptCelebrating HalloweenI love the idea of a day—or the better part of a week—set aside to tell stories like that and to keep the memory of my grandma, and so many others we have loved so much, alive.
2023-10-2305 minThe PostscriptOur DevicesI know young people hate to call. They text and instantly respond, and that seems to work well. When older people text, they tend to forget to check their messages, and balls get dropped. I’m guessing I’m not alone in this.
2023-10-1604 minThe PostscriptTalking to DogsI’m sure I’m not the only one who talks to dogs on my daily walk. I’d be surprised, however, if anyone was more enthusiastic about it. I am also (if I say so myself), very good at it. This is because I have a secret method for talking to dogs.
2023-10-0905 minThe PostscriptMy StoryI wrote a story about a man who believed as my friend did. I tried to imagine what might happen to that man that could cause him to change his mind.
2023-09-3005 minThe PostscriptSeptember SunshineI walk around in my shiny new boots, and I wonder if I shouldn’t be doing something different—even if it’s less ambitious than learning to fly or stockpiling enough food to live on for six months.
2023-09-2505 minThe PostscriptTalking to StrangersWe are all making up stories for one another without knowing what the real story is. The story I make up for myself when I am anxious is that I am failing—somehow, somewhere—and no one has told me how or why.
2023-09-1604 minThe PostscriptUp North With Mom and DadI think I’ve known for most of my life I would never be as consistent or disciplined or sensible as my parents. They were this way when I grew up, and they remain every bit as remarkable now that I am getting old.
2023-09-1004 minThe PostscriptLukewarm WaterA friend objected to my recent column. It wasn’t realistic, he wrote. Bad things happen, and people like me should acknowledge them. He talked about tornados and shootings. He said people like me would go looking for a pony in a pile of horse poop.
2023-09-0305 minThe PostscriptToo OldWe all agreed that it should be more entertaining than it was—at least for us. We suspected other people (younger people) might have more fun reading this than we were.
2023-09-0305 minThe PostscriptFootprintsThe cat prints and the poetry and the leaf print in the cement will not last 200 million years. But they will last longer than the poet who wrote the words or the cat who left the prints or the tree that dropped the leaf. And I think that is, somehow, wonderful.
2023-09-0305 minThe PostscriptFather’s DayIt doesn’t seem like my dad’s way of looking at the world, it just seems like the way the world should be looked at—if I take the time to be thoughtful and don’t rush out and do something stupid.
2023-09-0304 minThe PostscriptSo MuchI know for certain that strangers have helped me when I needed help, and kind words have changed my day from terrible to something better—something more hopeful.
2023-09-0305 minThe PostscriptStubby’s CompanyI don’t think my mother ever expected to have a red squirrel as a pet. I know she resisted for a long time. But Stubby has changed her mind about at least one red squirrel, and I think that is kind of remarkable.
2023-09-0305 minThe PostscriptThe Last Song
Songs tided me over. They gave voice to feelings that were either too powerful or too painful to experience in silence. Songs grounded me when I felt I might fly away or explode. Songs made sense of things, even if I couldn’t explain in words what I learned from them.
2023-09-0304 minThe PostscriptNot ImpossibleMy cousin Dane is the kind of guy who sits back in a room and listens to everyone trying to solve a problem and, after they’ve exhausted themselves trying to figure something out, he’ll say, “You know, what you might try is…” And whatever he suggests, it will be exactly the right thing to do.
2023-09-0304 minThe PostscriptAll the FlowersIt turns out that I love flowers far more than I knew. I love the shapes and the colors and the varieties and the seasons. I love how some will take over for a while, commanding attention, and then they fade and something new comes to the fore.
2023-09-0305 minThe PostscriptCircumstantial EvidenceMy mother reluctantly adopted Stubby after the tragic loss of half his tail last year. He went from her archenemy to her best friend, and now my mother feeds him every day. He has become quite tame and is clearly devoted to my mother and so, naturally, every time I chat with my mom, I ask how Stubby is doing.
Apparently, Stubby got into some trouble.
2023-09-0305 minThe PostscriptApple EmpanadasIt was midafternoon and not exactly our coffee and pastry hour. (Full disclosure: My husband, Peter, and I didn’t have a coffee and pastry hour, although this soon changed.) We cut one of those apple empanadas in half and tried it. And that was pretty much it.
2023-09-0304 minThe PostscriptThe PainterNow he has more commissions and offers to show in galleries than he can accept. People love his work, and so does he. “It freed me, my partner leaving,” he said. “If he hadn’t done that, I would never have gotten to paint!”
2023-08-1805 minThe PostscriptHola HourAs it turns to night, everyone naturally starts saying, “Buenas noches,” (“Good evening.”) This seems pretty straightforward, but determining when to stop saying “Good afternoon” and start saying “Good evening” is far more complicated than it seems.
2023-08-1805 minThe PostscriptSummer ColdI went to bed early with a stomachache and a cough and a sore throat and the feeling that I must have behaved very badly to get all these things at once
2023-08-1804 minThe PostscriptDaddy’s HomeWho can blame these two unseen dogs for losing their little minds once a night—the most exciting time of the day—when Daddy finally gets home?
2023-08-1805 minThe PostscriptMarriage StewMaybe our marriage is peculiar; I am in no position to say. Maybe every marriage is peculiar in its own way.
2023-07-0704 minThe PostscriptThe Cigar BoxIf I now asked you to guess what was in the box, no matter how many guesses you were given, I’m betting you would be wrong.
2023-06-3004 minThe PostscriptSecond SunsetI tell my parents I admire the life they have created for themselves. They have this great cabin, fun friends and neighbors, they bike all summer, ski all winter and, at the end of every day, they get an extra sunset.
2023-06-2304 minThe PostscriptRaising the RoofWhile I’m certainly not wishing for the roof to fall in on anyone, I’m not sure it’s been such a bad thing.
2023-06-1604 minThe PostscriptBlessings in DisguiseMy blessings are poorly disguised. They show up wearing false noses and funny eyeglasses and are instantly recognizable unless I am being completely thick-headed—and it is astonishing how often I am.
2023-06-0904 minThe PostscriptGood PearIt turned out I’d been wasting a lot of good pear, but that stopped under Mrs. Johnson’s tutelage.
2023-06-0204 minThe PostscriptMore OwlsThe rent was suspiciously cheap, but the reviews were all good except to say that the house was on a road with stairs. There is a good reason for this: the town predates wheels.
2023-05-3104 minThe PostscriptSummer BirthdaysSomewhere near the middle of our vacation, usually just after we’d reached our destination, my birthday would arrive.
2023-05-2604 minThe PostscriptAn Awful Lot of CheeseMy parents, who buy little tiny blocks of cheese which they cut into little tiny slices and serve on little tiny crackers at precisely five o’clock every evening, were understandably taken aback by the arrival of twenty pounds of cheese.
2023-05-2404 minThe PostscriptThe Kind of Dog I AmI imagined I was sort of a golden retriever mix. I was a cool dog, a chill dog. I am actually nothing at all like this.
2023-05-1904 minThe PostscriptSlow TravelersI used to take pride in traveling light. I fit all my clothes and everything I needed in a small backpack or a carry-on suitcase and hit the road with little idea of where I was going. Then I met Peter.
2023-05-1704 minThe PostscriptBlooming LateWe might be starting from scratch, but we’ve got a head start. We might be trying something new, but we get credit for time served.
2023-05-1204 minThe PostscriptForever HomeThe farmhouse is where I thought I’d grow old. I planted a lot of trees. I had a garden. I painted every wall, inside and out. I thought there was a strong likelihood I’d die in that house. Now I’ve put it up for sale.
2023-05-1004 minThe PostscriptUnexpected CowboyI have no cowboy credentials. So, when Bob suggested I perform with a cowboy singer, I was more than skeptical—I thought it was a dumb idea.
2023-05-0504 minThe PostscriptA Night at the Funeral HomeThe funeral home had been converted into an Airbnb. It was on our way—and suspiciously cheap.
2023-05-0304 minThe PostscriptSmelling Like DogA dog keeps us tethered in the here and now and reminds us that we are living in this moment—and that every moment in the future is imaginary.
2023-04-2804 minThe PostscriptIn Defense of PollyannaMore than once in my life, I’ve been accused of having a “Pollyanna attitude.” I didn’t actually know what this meant, except that it was not a good thing.
2023-04-2604 minThe PostscriptLearning to WhistleI don’t think I have envied many people many times in my life, but I very much wanted to whistle when I was six.
2023-04-2104 minThe PostscriptPush-Ups With BobI thought things were going pretty well until I remembered the push-ups—and Bob.
2023-04-1904 minThe PostscriptNot PopularI now realize that no one—not even the most popular person in high school—self-identifies as popular.
2023-04-1404 minThe PostscriptDusty SurprisesMy heart hurt, reading this forty-year-old letter. I wondered if I wrote back. I hoped he was doing well.
2023-04-1204 minThe PostscriptMade to LastMy grandma’s wedding dress was more than a little worse for wear. It had been folded up in a small box and kept safe by my cousin, Jill. (How Jill ended up with it, I do not know.)
2023-04-0704 minThe PostscriptThe Wren House“Jonie, come downstairs!” Dad hollered. “I think there are bats in the birdhouse!” Mom came running and they carefully lifted the back off the birdhouse.
2023-04-0504 minThe PostscriptNo CoffeeMy parents are great planners so there was no chance they were out of coffee, but where they might be keeping it—that was another issue.
2023-03-3104 min2023-03-2904 minThe PostscriptSinging LessonsMy teacher says I have a perfectly serviceable voice—and I am 100% sure she says this to all her students—but I still find it reassuring.
2023-03-2404 minThe PostscriptCoconut HeadAyo said, “Don’t burn yourself out. Give yourself permission to stop. Don’t use your head to break a coconut.”
2023-03-2204 minThe PostscriptNew RhubarbThe whole refrigerator had begun to resemble some archeological site with mysterious remnants of a past life that we could now only guess at.
2023-03-1704 minThe PostscriptTime and SunshineTraveling in Norway with close relations -- sometimes a little too close.
2023-01-1805 min2023-01-1305 min2023-01-1104 min2023-01-0605 minThe PostscriptMy Signature LookHow I found my signature look by allowing my spouse to cut my hair and other dubious fashion choices.
2023-01-0404 minThe PostscriptThrow Out the EmptiesSome unheeded words of advice for the New Year -- or any other day of the year.
2022-12-3005 min2022-12-2804 min
The PostscriptChristmas at the GreenhouseI don’t know how to sort out the tangled strands of joy and sorrow at Christmas.
2022-12-2304 min2022-12-2104 min2022-12-1604 min2022-12-1405 minThe PostscriptGrand Middle-Age AdventureStarting new adventures at middle age isn't any less trying, but having a little perspective is helpful.
2022-12-0904 minThe PostscriptMy Tree FriendI'm happy to have friends of any kind and my arboreal pals have a lot to teach me.
2022-12-0704 min2022-12-0205 min2022-11-3005 min2022-05-1004 min2022-05-1004 min2022-05-1005 min2022-05-1004 min2022-05-1004 min
Don’t Miss The Award-Winning Full Audiobook Now, Thriller Fans!Blue Yarn by Carrie ClassonPlease visithttps://thebookvoice.com/podcasts/2/audible/70805to listen full audiobooks.
Title: Blue Yarn
Author: Carrie Classon
Narrator: Cheryl May
Format: mp3
Length: 9 hrs and 50 mins
Release date: 07-23-19
Ratings: 3 out of 5 stars, 1 rating
Genres: Africa
Publisher's Summary:
In the space of a few days, Carrie loses her marriage, her career, and her home - all while working in Lagos, Nigeria. She is blindsided by the losses and realizes the story she painstakingly knit together over the past two decades - the story explaining her life and who she is - has unraveled. With no plan and only her deaf...
2019-07-239h 50Discover An Game-Changing Full Audiobook And Elevate Your Mindset.Blue Yarn by Carrie ClassonPlease visithttps://thebookvoice.com/podcasts/2/audible/70805to listen full audiobooks.
Title: Blue Yarn
Author: Carrie Classon
Narrator: Cheryl May
Format: mp3
Length: 9 hrs and 50 mins
Release date: 07-23-19
Ratings: 3 out of 5 stars, 1 rating
Genres: Africa
Publisher's Summary:
In the space of a few days, Carrie loses her marriage, her career, and her home - all while working in Lagos, Nigeria. She is blindsided by the losses and realizes the story she painstakingly knit together over the past two decades - the story explaining her life and who she is - has unraveled. With no plan and only her deaf...
2019-07-239h 50Absorb A Full Audiobook That Is Simply Sensational.Blue Yarn by Carrie ClassonPlease visithttps://thebookvoice.com/podcasts/2/audible/70805to listen full audiobooks.
Title: Blue Yarn
Author: Carrie Classon
Narrator: Cheryl May
Format: mp3
Length: 9 hrs and 50 mins
Release date: 07-23-19
Ratings: 3 out of 5 stars, 1 rating
Genres: Africa
Publisher's Summary:
In the space of a few days, Carrie loses her marriage, her career, and her home - all while working in Lagos, Nigeria. She is blindsided by the losses and realizes the story she painstakingly knit together over the past two decades - the story explaining her life and who she is - has unraveled. With no plan and only her deaf...
2019-07-239h 50