Maternal Instinct

I nearly struck a small child this afternoon on the train, because he was poking me repeatedly with an umbrella. Possibly the only thing that stopped me was the memory, trapped, no doubt, at the cellular level, of the look of horror on my sister's face some years ago when I recommended that a screaming …

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And Now We Make Things Nice and Neat

A lifetime ago, I lived just outside Boston in an old triple-decker with new paint and a tidy little yard. The landlord and lady were Irish, and I highly suspect I got the place because of my red hair and freckles.Once a month, Siobhan would take out a bucket and a ton of bleach and …

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