Category Archives: growing up
Hostess Donettes, formally presented in pleated cupcake cups, for my niece Caroline Hirsch’s small ninth birthday gathering. At her request, and by her design.
Mattie looked down at the elf quizzically. “Your majesty?” she asked, and again, he took a deep bow. “We’ve been awaiting your arrival for a generation,” he told her. A thousand questions filled Mattie’s head, but for a moment, she … Continue reading
Mattie cowered as the knife of suffering roared. Its voice boomed in her ears. It looked as big as her – bigger! – and it gleamed as if someone had spent hours polishing it. The sparkling jewels on its hilt … Continue reading
Ejected from the mossy depths of the well, Mattie lay gasping, curled up in a ball, terrified of even the sunlight in this strange place. A soreness blossomed in her middle, just at the place where her lower ribs curved … Continue reading
There once was a little girl named Mattie who lived alone with her mother in a small house at the edge of the woods. Her father was long gone, perhaps dead. Her mother was ailing, and so Mattie did much … Continue reading
I got to spend Saturday night with my nieces, ages nine and seven, always a treat because they are funny, bright, polite, and always present in the moment. At least when I’m around. I remember the first time I worked … Continue reading