Growing up under a roof…
Same as always. My parents visited this weekend. It is still weird for my parents to come stay at “my” house. Instead of me growing up in theirs. Stay tuned……
Awake in the dusk of living…
Where the mind is without fear and the head is held high Where knowledge is free Where the world has not been broken up into fragments By narrow domestic walls…
On a warm day in March…
…in the back of a ’53 Plymouth. What else would you do in Cuba on a Sunday? Well, for the first half, I attended a church service. Packed to the…