
I have not been in this room for three years- except to run in and out -the pandemic made me claustrophobic and anyway I usually need a coffee shop environment to write and we were in lock down so my wife and I transformed our living room to a coffeeshop, Fig and Hillary’s- so named for the huge Hillary poster on the wall and the fig trees in the backyard. My office became a storage room piled high with—what? Stuff.
Then, finally… it seemed the pandemic –at least in terms of dire death prediction—was perhaps over. It took most of this post pandemic year to get up out of the living room where I had encamped to come back to here—my actual office. To put the bookshelves back and—to turn my desk around so I am not facing the door but facing the window.
Continue reading “The Tree in my Front Yard by Marie Cartier”







