Articles written by Carrie Classon
Sorted by date Results 1 - 25 of 146
The Postscript: White dresses
I’ve been under some stress lately. I’ve written a novel, and now I have to wait to find someone who thinks it’s worth publishing. (I happen to think it is, for the record.)... — Updated 6/14/2022
The Postscript: Hot sandwiches
I have been trying, for as long as I can remember and with limited success, to learn Spanish. My husband, Peter, says I am good, but that is because he does not speak Spanish, so if... — Updated 6/7/2022
The Postscript: Verne knows
Verne knows me too well. For the first time in our lives, my husband, Peter, and I live in a building with a front desk. It’s nice to have someone there when packages are delivere... — Updated 5/25/2022
The Postscript: Bunion season
It’s that time of year again. No, I am not talking about bikini season. I’m talking about bunion season. I did not even know I had a bunion until fairly recently and now, every... — Updated 5/18/2022
The Postscript: A great time to get old
"It's a great time to get old!" That's what my husband, Peter, says. He's right. And getting old is — as the saying goes — better than the alternative. I was thinking this while... — Updated 5/4/2022
The Postscript: The job I want
“Dress for the job you want!” was advice I heard from an early age. I took this advice to heart. I was working a lowly job in a government office while applying for jobs in... — Updated 4/27/2022
The Postscript: A very bad smell
Of course, we should have known something was wrong. The nice thing about living in our new condo is that we don’t have the responsibilities of a stand-alone home. There is no... — Updated 4/20/2022
The Postscript - A lot of cake
The plan was to buy everyone cake. My husband, Peter, and I are finally getting ready to leave Mexico, and we can’t say we are too happy about it. The last two months in San... — Updated 4/15/2022
The Postscript: My grouchy friends
I have a weakness for grouchy people. I have a couple of friends I would describe as perpetually grouchy, and I’m not quite sure why, but I think they are good for me. To... — Updated 4/6/2022
The Postscript: A dog knows
“What a sweet dog!” I said in Spanish. “She is a sweet dog,” the man walking her answered, in English. He had an Irish accent and was walking the young dog down the street... — Updated 3/30/2022
The Postscript: Super bonito
“Maybe I’m a little old for this dress?” I suggested tentatively as I made my way to the mirror in the little shop. I was in the artisans’ market in San Miguel de Allende,... — Updated 3/16/2022
The Postscript: Time for butter
My great-uncle John never buttered his bread. “I don’t have time for butter!” he insisted. I never knew how much time butter took, but apparently it was more than Uncle John... — Updated 3/2/2022
The Postscript: Adequate accomodations
“I can always sleep in my rain jacket,” my husband, Peter, announced. Vacationing in rental homes is usually a bit of an adventure. We don’t need luxurious digs, and instead... — Updated 2/23/2022
The Postscript: Listening to the bells
The bells ring more or less all the time here. My husband, Peter, and I are in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, a city filled with old churches. Every old church has at least a couple... — Updated 2/16/2022
The Postscript: How things are done
One reason to travel is to discover how things are done all over again. My husband, Peter, and I are in Mexico, and I was thinking this as we stood, confounded, in front of the... — Updated 2/9/2022
The Postscript: Out of the jungle
In my dream, the jungle was thick and dark. There was a river running through it and I was on a small raft, careening down it. The current was flowing fast in the center and I... — Updated 2/2/2022
The Postscript: A better way
“You’ll never guess what I did!” my husband, Peter, announced. “You’re right. I won’t.” “I microwaved the masking tape!” I can’t tell you how pleased he was with... — Updated 1/26/2022
The Postscript: Eating broccoli
“I bought more broccoli because I knew you were coming,” my mother informed me. You can never get enough broccoli; that is my belief. I am lucky in that I never had to acquire... — Updated 1/19/2022
The Postscript: Fancy dress
I was excited to wear my new dress. It was slimming, I thought: all black and covered with flounces from the neckline to the hemline. I wore it with high heels — which I rarely... — Updated 1/12/2022
The Postscript: New Year inventory
The New Year is when we take stock. In some cases, like my husband Peter’s, this is literal. He keeps an inventory of our canned goods and chastises me if I mess up his... — Updated 1/5/2022
The Postscript: Bad jokes
My Uncle Andy recently turned 90, and it was hard to imagine what a guy would like for his 90th birthday. At 90, getting a lot of new stuff doesn’t sound very appealing. Andy is i... — Updated 12/29/2021
The Postscript: Stringing lights
I walk around my neighborhood later in the evening these days, mostly so I can see the lights. There are some impressive houses just a mile or so away, and I walk down the... — Updated 12/22/2021
The Postscript: Worth waiting for
Yesterday I bought a Christmas tree at the hardware store. I thought it was a good day to do it both because I'd heard the rumors of Christmas tree shortages and because it would... — Updated 12/15/2021
The Postscript: Lucky
“It’s not about luck,” my friend Andrew insists, “it’s about gratitude.” Andrew is not some sort of New Age guide, in case you were wondering. He is a slightly... — Updated 12/8/2021
The Postscript: Fifty shades
My husband, Peter, is a man of few colors: black and gray, to be exact. He has always been this way, as far as I know. Peter is not opposed to color, but I think it makes him a... — Updated 12/1/2021