When I set out to learn about my mother's bridge club, the Jewish octogenarians behind the matching outfits and accessories, I never expected to fall in love with them. This is the story of the ladies, their game, their gen, and the ragged path that led me back to my mother.
A little slow getting out of the gate. I usually love the first day after labor day. I was always better at school than summer camp, better at work than vacation. I also live in New England and the changing colors of the trees is a gorgeous pageant. And then of course long sleeves and sweaters over shorts and and thongs. Somehow, and maybe it’s the terrible shape of the world, makes it harder to root for anything. I think as writers, obligated to no one and nothing, the responsibility, paradoxically, implores us to act. To read and write and publish, to communicate and find meaning.
How are you feeling?
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Betsy Lerner 
I am damn lucky! I live on Lake Michigan. Every day is a beautiful surprise. The only room in which I don’t see the lake is my writing room. Again, lucky, I have a room of my own. And, yet. . .
In Reno it’s still hot, but…
It’s not 115, like Sacramento yesterday, so I’m extremely grateful. Walk at 6:30, say hi to the quail, breathe deep at the sunrise over the Virginia Range. Had my first and last Pumpkin Latte of the season. Headed to my writing room.
This post is spot on….as usual. Thanks for expressing what I’m feeling. ❤
My son got married over the weekend. It was a two-groom ceremony, which would not have been possible a few years ago, so I’m grateful and full of joy on the one hand. On the other, I look at what’s ahead and it breaks my heart. I’m rooting for them, don’t get me wrong, but my pompoms are tattered and it’s hard to get my sneakers off the ground.
“How are you feeling?”
Sometimes more than others, but without chemical filters. Trying not to feel sorry for myself. Glad to see that Averil found joy and gratefulness in the marriage of her son. Joy and gratefulness are good.