Thursday, September 22, 2022
Home Islander Essays The Write Prescription

The Write Prescription

The Write Prescription: Wanting to wait

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I have spent a lot of time waiting this summer. There have been the usual moments of suspended time — waiting for the electrician to come, the internet to work, the mechanic to fix...

The Write Prescription: Seeing magic

It’s 5:30 in the morning, and I’m trying to figure out if I want to kayak. The conditions are just the way I like them. Calm and foggy. I had just kayaked the morning...

The Write Prescription: Dressed for takeoff

Choosing your outfit for an airplane trip in the mid-1960s was a serious affair. Dresses for women, jackets and ties for men. Party clothes for girls and boys. So when I was in the...

The Write Prescription: Dog years

I am a sucker for dog videos. My favorite form of procrastination is watching “The Dodo,” which posts clips of dogs being rescued, rehabilitated, and turning into pets full of mush and love. So...

The Write Prescription: Restless body syndrome

My father was the one who taught me to look at the sky — through the naked eye, through a telescope, through smoked glasses to see an eclipse. While I have an app on...

The Write Prescription: Separation anxiety

A week after having a baby, my daughter had to make plans to attend a close friend’s wedding. The event was five months away, but it was in Los Angeles, so hotel and plane...

The Write Prescription: Picture perfect

When my younger daughter turned 12, she went to overnight camp for the first time. She had wanted to go since she was 9, each year being tempted by her classmates’ stories of new...

The Write Prescription: In the face of helplessness

I am feeling helpless. This was not the opening for the column I planned to write this week. While this is a place for personal reflection, and where I think it’s OK to be...

The Write Prescription: Speak melody

I was 8 years old the first time I held a flute. I can’t say it was love at first sight. Music lessons were required in my house. My sister was assigned the piano....

The Write Prescription: Taking turns

I hear the Tinkerbell melody of the washing machine down in the basement. This is the second load of laundry my husband is doing today. Two years ago, he couldn’t have told you where...

The Write Prescription: Follow the leader

“I’ll change him. You sit,” I said to my daughter who I thought deserved some pampering since the birth of her son two weeks earlier. I know that changing diapers for baby boys has its...

The Write Prescription: Between the pages

One of the first rituals of lamentation I indulged in when my older daughter left for college was to rummage in her closet and dresser drawers to see what clothes she left behind. In...

The Write Prescription: The wrong seal

I used to tell my children a story about a fictitious little girl named Nessa who lived with her mother in a cottage by the sea. One night, Nessa is restless. Her skin is...

The Write Prescription: The color of sassy

I am excited and humbled to follow Nancy Aronie, who brought us so many Writing from the Heart stories. That title belongs to her, so I am renaming this column The Write Prescription, based...