“Do You… Scuba?”

I am a very wimpy scuba diver. When I get to the bottom of the ocean I either start flailing my arms like a crazy person, or I suction-cup myself to a skilled divemaster who watches my every move, making sure that I don’t magically inflate my BC, float up to the surface, and bob around…

Guilt on a Tropical Island

I walked to the beach hoping to find my husband and two drinks waiting for me under a palm tree, but I couldn’t locate him anywhere. Suddenly I heard his voice, and off in the distance I saw him – surrounded by two women, with a very concerned look on his face.  He beckoned me forward,…

An Ode to a Rural Backyard

My husband and I recently shared our home with two boys from the Bronx as part of the Fresh Air program. We ran through sprinklers, kicked soccer balls around the park, jumped into lakes and ate s’mores over a campfire. It felt like a real summer. It was pretty awesome. The boys were surprised, however, by…

A Grown-up On Cape Cod

During most of my young life, my mother struggled to get me to eat fish.  She was convinced that lack of fish could somehow lead a child down the dangerous path of stunted development. When she was young in East Germany, she was taught that oily fish was the key to health, and she was…

The Inquisition

“Do you have kids?” The beach bar at our little hotel was offering a happy hour and a result, of course, the cozy bar was very, very full. My neighbor to the left leaned in closer, eyes squinty from an hour or so of two-for-one margaritas, and repeated the question. “So, do you have kids?” “No”,…