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.

I’m not sure what my Kansas grandparents would say.

For months now, I have been reading Virginia Woolf.

Already the light has changed.

Friends, it might be all about the practice boxes.