Bovina
Stories about growing up in Bovina Center, NY.
-
“Let me play.” “No, you’re a girl.” “I can play.” (I thumped my glove.) “Girls don’t play baseball.” “I can, too. Let me play.” “No, you’re a girl.” I sat on the hillside for several hours, watching, asking, watching more, thumping my glove, asking again. I was unable to change the one thing that would Read more
-
Have you ever been insulted, but not cared about the content of the insult? When I was in high school it was an insult to tell a girl that she was flat-chested. I knew from the nasty energy around the words, both written and spoken, that the comment was meant as insult, but being flat-chested, Read more
-
When we were little, Dad came up with an idea to slow the pace of Christmas morning. We could open our stockings as soon as we woke up. But, before we could open gifts, Debbie and I were in charge of making breakfast. (Mom’s contribution to Christmas morning management was to allow us to open Read more
-
We had a well-equipped playground at the end of our street. Well equipped with apparatus made out of metal and not weather-resistant, splinter-prone wood. We played a wild game of playground equipment tag called “witchy-poo.” The rule was you were safe if on a piece of equipment with your feet off the ground. The “it” Read more
-
“Sinking Eyeballs” is my silly name for an exercise I learned in Pilates. It is my go-to exercise to relax my mind. Try this: Lie on the floor – Take a few deep breaths – Close your eyes – Take a couple more deep breaths Think about relaxing your eye muscles – Imagine them so Read more
