Sassafras Mama

Sixteen years ago this spring I bought my first lawn mower.  I don't remember a lot about the transaction itself, I just remember that m...

This week's dogwood and tulip postings will once-again be condensed into one posting of Spring beauty. And things are shaping up to be q...

My sweet baby boy is now 13 and that is a difficult thing.  13 years olds can be thoughtful and kind.  In fact, there are moments when his a...

I often joke that giving birth to a son was my strike against patriarchy.  Boys raised by feminists are the best revenge.  But, twice a year...

Much like the Spring warmth, for which we continue to wait, I am behind with this week's dogwood post.  Understandably, as we have given...

Last December, my friend Amy called to let me know that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer.  I'm the sort of optimistic fool who ...

The smell of Spring is in the air.  I've slept with windows open for the last few nights and awakened to chirping birds.  Everywhere I g...

This morning my local NPR station, in preparation for a story about continuing Hurricane Sandy recovery efforts, noted that the opening of t...

On the hill that slopes down to the Delaware & Raritan Canal at the east edge of our school campus, the Lower School students have pl...

In the immediate aftermath of Spring Break, I inherited a new class to teach.  More accurately, they were a class new to me, having been org...