Butter Files: Uncle Don

We were returning home from a family trip, seven of us packed like sardines into the Chrysler station wagon.  As our home came into view, my Stepmom was the first to make the connection. “Oh no!”, she groaned. “What?” we all thought, looking at each other.  Did we forget something?  Did we hit a cat?…

On The Increasingly Complex Algorithm of Parenthood

When I was 15 or so I asked my dad to help me with some algebra homework.  I was not good at algebra way back then (she notes, as though she might be much better at algebra now) but my father was purported to be quite handy at math so who better to ask? My…

Yahtzee: Rules of Engagement…

Last year I taught littleb how to play Yahtzee.  He’s since become a master Yahtzee strategist.  He has also developed some interesting rules. 1.  If you are just one die away from getting Yahtzee you may have an extra turn. 2.  When one of the dice rolls off the playing table, all the dice must…

If I Hadn’t Been So Focused on Becoming the First Taylor Swift, I Might Have Invented the Internet

When I was 13 and firmly in the clutches of that ultimate mean girl, puberty, I discovered poetry. Months were spent producing emo ballads exploring my obsessive crushes on various high school seniors, pop stars, and, bewilderingly, MacGyver.  It eventually occurred to me, probably during a lucid dream also involving a Maxfield Parrish painting and a…

Vi Chronicles: The Portland Strangler

Vi went out and left Bonnie in charge of Victor and me.  I would not have left Bonnie in charge of a pet rock.  If my mother had said to me, “Chicken, I’m going out.  Do you think Bonnie would make a good babysitter?”, I would have replied, “Hell no, woman, are you mad?” but…

Bus Stop Love

I live next to a neighborhood bus stop.  There are three people who have, for years, taken the 8:15 a.m. bus into Providence. The guy who lives down the street is as friendly and curious as a puppy.  He has an artsy/geeky vibe about him.  I almost ran over him one day as I backed…

An Insecure Writer

Hello, I’m Chicken.  I’m an insecure writer. (Hello Chicken) Oh, I do fine in a casual setting.  I write in a conversational tone that some people  seem to enjoy.  I’m good at keeping things light and breezy.  I’m a literary tropical oasis.   Welcome to my blog, would you like a frozen beverage? When a…

If You Give a Chicken a Glass of Wine

If you give a Chicken a glass of wine she will want a cigarette to go with it. You will point out that smoking is not healthy for man nor fowl. She will agree with you and thank you for the reminder. She’ll have another glass of wine instead. Ten minutes later she will ask…

When Clothes Go to War

Contrary to what you might think, clothes do have feelings, and I’m not just talking about the colorful ones. The thing to remember about clothes is this:  They are narcissistic, vengeful bitches, and they will turn on you for no reason at all. Their typical strategy is to confuse and humiliate.  I think this tactic…

Carbs Make Me Cry

Lately I’ve been reading up on nutrition  in an effort to find a solution to Teenager Who Lives in the Basement’s (TWLITB) health issues.  If I haven’t mentioned it before,  TWLITB has Crohn’s and arthritis, two inflammatory health concerns that go hand in hand.  The solutions to date have been pharmaceutical. His doctors are trying…