The Postscript Enough steps Carrie Classon Anxiety likes numbers. I only recently realized that a lot of my anxiety fixates on meaningless numbers. I like to know how many there are of a particular thing and then attach meanings – usually sinister, sometimes hopeful, always unreasonable – to these numbers. How many words are in …
The Postscript Tourist town Carrie Classon My husband, Peter, and I are staying in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, which is, according to a lot of folks, a tourist town. Sometimes, the person saying this means it is not a place they would want to spend time. This puzzles me. I’m not sure why a …
The Postscript More useful Carrie Classon I spent last week trying to be useful. I volunteered for a writers conference in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, where my husband, Peter, and I stay. I love writers conferences. I love that people will travel from far away just to talk about writing, to meet other writers, …
The Postscript Mr. Muscles Carrie Classon My husband, Peter, is learning Spanish his own way. I do Duolingo online. It is free. It is easy to do. The whole thing is designed like a game, and dancing animated creatures hop up and down and celebrate every time I get five answers in a row correct. …
The Postscript Chia Pet moment Carrie Classon “You know, since I’ve been eating these chia seeds, I’ve noticed my beard has gotten heavier.” My husband, Peter, was talking to my father downstairs. I sat up at attention. This comment about the chia seeds was news to me. I knew Peter was eating chia seeds because …
The Postscript Not Stubby Carrie Classon My mother has a pet squirrel named Stubby. He is not, technically, her pet, as he lives outdoors as a wild squirrel. But he spends much of his time sitting on the railing, watching my mother, and my mother spends much of her time sprinkling seeds outside for Stubby, …
The Postscript Valentine gift Carrie Classon My husband, Peter, does not believe in Valentine’s Day. I mean, he knows it is a thing. It’s just a thing he prefers to ignore. “Stupid!” That is Peter’s verdict. Peter takes offense whenever there is a big marketing effort aimed at getting him to buy things in order …
The Postscript Barely remembered Carrie Classon “The worst thing,” I told my mother, “was when you made us eat venison sausages for lunch. That sausage lasted forever!” I am visiting my parents, and we somehow got to discussing our less-than-favorite foods. My mother always made wonderful school lunches with fresh fruit and a homemade cookie. …
The Postscript Walking through the snow Carrie Classon It was snowing hard, the way it almost never does anymore, and I decided I needed to go for my walk, heedless of the weather. “I probably won’t be gone long!” I texted a friend in California as I headed out the door looking like an Arctic …
The Postscript Complimenting strangers Carrie Classon “I have to say, that is a very nice hat!” I told the man as he passed me on the sidewalk. The man in the snazzy blue fedora had a serious look on his face, as if he was thinking deeply about something far more important than the indigo-blue …
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