I saw my first Christmas tree glowing in someone’s front window the day after Halloween.

Like many parts of the country, we are basking in an extended fall this year.

One October a long, long time ago in a land far away, this conversation happened in the studio:

It is October in the piano studio.

There is a Saturday Night Live sketch* (featuring Adam Sandler) about a travel agency who takes tourists around Italy.

A true story:

One of my piano families brought me a gift card at the end of the summer semester.

All over Alaska there is an iconic plant called fireweed.

A story problem:

This week marks two anniversaries in Matt and my life together.

My days and hours during the summer often resemble a piece of Swiss cheese.

It is hot.

Last Saturday a friend and I met for drinks.

I have long maintained that travel has a half-life.

“So what’s new with you?” my sister asked last Sunday.

Monthly studio classes often have a theme.

Last weekend Matt and I visited our dear friend Leah on her family farm outside of Houston.

Sometimes all it takes is a small idea to turn a wide corner.

Once, not long after we had moved to Boston, Matt came home from the store and announced, “Today there was a deal on oranges.

Lately, in an effort not to spin off the planet from anxiety and fear, I have needed to remind myself of my coordinates in the universe.