The Wormlips Scrapbook

Tinna was my imaginary friend, captured on audio tape by my father in the 1950s. “Ginna’s a good girl. Tinna’s a bad girl.” On the bus coming home from work this week, the sun knifed into the south-facing windows. A teenaged boy with a severe visual impairment sat in the row in front of me [...]

Sitting in bed this morning, I had a video chat with a friend who was sitting in bed in another city. “That’s a nice nightgown,” I commented. “Oh, thanks! It’s the one my mother died in,” she replied cheerfully.

You know what my mother said when I was in Delaware? (As you might recall, she is the one who observed, “Even chickens have pecking orders.”) “It is the youth of the evening right now, but come morning, that will no longer be true.” Now you know where I get my brilliance from. Here are [...]