Monday, January 2, 2012

Real Women Make Quiche

I am wrapping up and putting away lights and greenery, seeing  bare walls once again, and tasting the onion quiche-lets I made this morning while still remembering with a wistful mental glance the Yale professor  from Connecticut I watched online this morning as he talked, his crisp shirt still marked with a crease on one side from being in a new wrapper, of poetry, publishing and syllabi.

And I wondered why it was that instead of being one of the listening, bobbing heads I could barely see in front of the camera, as he spoke of Yates, Hughes, and Frost, I was making quiche-lets, and boxing up Christmas in Sunny California.

This is where I live. This is what I do.

But I still wonder.