Red's Wrap
Happiness. It's relative.
Category: Writing
The Soup
I am making potato leek soup for the first time. I bought the leeks at a roadside stand because they were beautiful. So were the beets and the poblano peppers and the green and yellow beans. A young man behind the table followed me… Continue Reading “The Soup”
On Writing: Words in a Drawer
Lately, I’ve not wanted to talk about writing or read my writing to other people or listen to other people read their writing or have anyone ask me how my writing is going. I don’t want to talk about what I’m working on because… Continue Reading “On Writing: Words in a Drawer”
Christina
Christina checking names at Father Fabretto’s Home in northern Nicaragua – 1988 She was crazy then and she still is. She’s the reason that a couple dozen orphaned, disabled kids in Nicaragua came to live with families in Milwaukee in the 80’s and 90’s … Continue Reading “Christina”
The Purple Shirt: Part Two
“Oh gee, I’m really sorry but this is exactly the shirt I was looking for,” Gloria said. “It’s a beautiful shirt. I can see why you’d like it.” She draped the purple shirt over the handle of her shopping cart and moved to the… Continue Reading “The Purple Shirt: Part Two”
The Purple Shirt: Part One
Gloria stepped back from the women’s shirt rack and waited for the old lady to pass. Experienced thrift store shoppers know the dance. A person rifling through the hangers from one direction will step back and let the person rifling from the other direction… Continue Reading “The Purple Shirt: Part One”
The Parish Hall
Last fall, my friend’s son passed away. My friend and her family are Native American and the celebration of her son’s life would be held at the parish hall on the Oneida reservation about two hours from where I live. I debated going. I… Continue Reading “The Parish Hall”
The Parish Hall
Last fall, my friend’s son passed away. My friend and her family are Native American and the celebration of her son’s life would be held at the parish hall on the Oneida reservation about two hours from where I live. I debated going. I… Continue Reading “The Parish Hall”
On the Way to the New School
The school bus rumbled, braked hard at each stop, and then roared forward after each kid got on and stumbled their way to the back seats where all the kids who knew each other sat. Phyllis wrote her name with magic marker on each… Continue Reading “On the Way to the New School”
A Herd of Grazing Grudges
Don’t get me started. I never forget an insult or insulting behavior. Forty years ago, a friend of my then boyfriend, now husband, called me a gold digger. Not to my face, to his, but he did, unfortunately, tell me about it. There is… Continue Reading “A Herd of Grazing Grudges”
Snow Door | wisconsinacademy.org
Listen to Jan read her essay “Billy” presented on WUWM’s Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “At the Breakfast Bar” on WUWM Lake Effect
Jan’s essay “The Parish Hall,” on WUWM Lake Effect
“Fury Cannot Touch Me,” Modern Love, NYT, 9/29/11
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