Real&Random

It may be all wrong, but this is how I remember it: Joanna Pascucci lived in a big, brick Italian ranch house on a little hill across from middle school.  I felt lucky that day to be part of a group of kids who walked home with the "cool girl" Joanna while we all waited for something that must have been going on later back at school. We walked up the long dirt driveway and in through the garage. I'd always wondered what it looked like in that house on the hill. Did it have marble? Was it gorgeous? I'll be honest. I don't know. All I remember is the kitchen island.  I was expecting a Venetian mansion, not an Italian mother's suburban Detroit kitchen. It was piled high with brown grocery bags of food. Not just a few bags. But to me, in my 7th grade memory, a dozen at least. Some of the items, bananas, cereal had already made it out of box. There was food on the counters. It was a free-for-all. I know I marveled out loud at the cornucopia of plenty, because she reminded me of her older brothers and their appetites. I swear she told me her mother gave up on actually putting most of the food in a pantry. It was attacked so quickly by the boys it wasn't worth the time and Read more...

By Wendy Pierman Mitzel ~~ Remember when Saturday mornings broke with the promise of a television full of cartoons to be watched from under a warm blanket in pajamas til noon? As an adult, I don't run out of bed for Looney Toons anymore, but this Saturday morning I felt a similar feeling of possibility. The sun is shining hard through my kitchen window, the coffee is made and there is nowhere to go just yet. So I have a few clear moments to simply look around, inside and outside of myself, and appreciate what brings peace and a smile to my face at any given moment. First, bunny tracks. Yup. It's been a beautiful few days of snow and each morning I peer out the window for fresh bunny tracks coming from under my shed and from the field behind it. It's like a map to their world, these fuzzy wuzzy bunnies who eat my raspberries in the summer and give my dog chase when he spots them. In the snow I can see where they come from and where they go. (Under my deck apparently.) It's like Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny are telling me a story. Second, yesterday I made a discovery at Starbucks: The Flat White. According to SBux it's: "A product of simplicity, crafted into artistry. An extra Read more...

By Wendy Pierman Mitzel ~~~~   One afternoon, probably seven years ago, my neighbor saved the day with a glass of wine and a few moments of peace. I remember the day as a bit nuttier than usual. The four kids, 10 and under, were in the yard on scooters, bikes, swings and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed. I was likely yelling or whining at said children and I’m pretty sure now that my neighbors, Frankie and Bill, were witness to it all. They were a beautiful pair. Elegant and classy at more than 80-years-old, the couple exuded confidence, grace and class. Frankie wore lovely earrings. Bill always dressed the role of a dapper gentlemen. That afternoon, sunny and warm, they strolled out of their house as if nothing was amiss and invited me for a glass of wine and some cheese on the back patio, beautiful bluestone with rock walls and blooming rhododendron. Fairly new to New England at that time, I assumed 4 o’clock wine was some sort of classy East Coast tradition. And while I learned that it was not out-of-the-ordinary for the pair to enjoy a glass and a toast together, I’m convinced that on that day they spotted a woman at her wits’ end and said to each other: “Oh Dear, Read more...