This post is one of a six-part series on our recent family trip to Perú. The dentist will be visited. Jorge el Curioso will be watched. Paracas will be braved. Bread will be eaten. Spanish will […]
It’s 1:16 p.m. I’ve just gotten both the kids to nap. It’s taken me four days to re-synch them after their schedules were all off during an intense weekend of non-stop book proposal hysteria.
Today at the dentist, post-cleaning and clutching my new, green toothbrush, I found myself in the midst of a conversation about how “lucky” some people are.
I grew up in the village of Manomet, Massachusetts in a neighborhood near Churchill Landing. Also known as “Plymouth” for people in other parts of Mass. Also known as “Y’know the Pilgrims? Plymouth? No?”