I am beginning work on a illustrated collection of excerpts from my family’s letters. My son and I talked about the examples I’ve used so far and found that his recollection (of my communications with him) is vastly different than the advice I heard from my parents. This is a partial list for Mother’s Day 201o: amusing, and not a little weird.
In no particular order, although I suspect the examples that he remembers most vividly come first:
Baba Yaga eats people. Always has. Always will.
Never play cards for money in a place you can’t leave.
Always trade up.
There’s nothing that can’t be fixed with the judicious amount of accellerant.
Sleep is a weapon.
Never fall in love with someone with more problems than you. And, there are a lot of people out there with more problems than you. (I should add that this rule has been flung down and danced on in our household.)
Dress like you had to walk home.
If you get to salt water, turn around.
If you don’t know what color it is, it isn’t purple.
That’s higher than it looks from down here.
The Rent-a-cop won’t think it’s funny. Don’t take it personally.
Remember where you parked.
Wish my mom had told me the one about Baba Yaga. . .









I grew up in this house. There were cows wandering the first floor when my parents bought it in 1955 shortly after I was born. My father had adventures and tetanus shots ripping off the decrepit front porch and flipping the huge old floorboards over to hide the damage from the livestock. The house was built in 1770 – or thereabouts and had been updated last around 1800. He did extensive renovations before my grandmother would allow my mother to move in with the new baby.