Earlier this evening an old friend of my parents joined us for dinner at Grandpa’s house. My parents told her not to bring any dishes – Grandpa doesn’t each much and they’d cooked enough to ensure leftovers for at least two more meals – but Mrs. R– hopped in ten minutes late carrying a big pot of “lion head” meatballs and a smaller platter of stir-fried cucumber and sliced fish cakes. Continue reading “Little Children”→
I was talking to my cousin on the phone. She’d just come from a law school friend’s wedding in the Bay Area, an intimate affair up in the hills of Berkeley where, during cocktail hour, the bride had come up to her with a conspiratorial twinkle in her eye.