Monthly Archives: November 2016


April was a homeless woman who hung out by Charles Street station. I’d see her when I had appointments at MGH and we’d chat. Sometimes I’d buy her stuff she needed at the nearby CVS, but I think sometimes she’d return them for the cash.  Apparently she died of an overdose over the weekend, which made me both sad and angry.


oh shit the fruit plate

So here is the story:

When I was growing up, we would go to my grandparents’ house for most holidays (Thanksgiving, Passover, Rosh Hashana…) My Nana would make a beautiful fruit plate to have with dessert, and she would put it on the porch to stay cool.  After dinner, when my grandfather had finished the dishes, we would all come back to the table for dessert and coffee.  About halfway through it, Nana would leap up and yell “Oh SHIT!  The fruit plate!!” and she’d run out to the porch and get it. She’d do this nearly every time.

They are gone now, but the tradition lives on.



On the plus side, it’s not broken or dislocated, and at least it’s not my right hand.  On the other hand (ha!), it hurts like a bastard and I have no idea what I did to it in the first place, so I can’t avoid doing it again!  (also, typing is hard.)