Turn the table.

In the days leading up to Christmas, I was swirling in a Bah Humbug funk. Sadness for the world, bummed that it would be just us at home. The immense guilt that I felt this way, that I wasn’t appropriately appreciative of how fortunate we were to even be home together, was overwhelming. And a

Night 6

It is 9:15 in the morning, and I’m taping together a paper dreidel. Diego paws at my side, and I shuffle my gaze between this kitchen table “craft” and my laptop’s buzzing emails. I notice a reminder about an upcoming doctor’s appointment, as KQED blares an update about yesterday’s record breaking fatalities. Tonight is the