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  • The Postscript: Our devices

    Carrie Classon|Updated Oct 17, 2023

    My sister sends a text, telling me she is making lasagna, and asks if I will bring a cake. “Sounds great!” I readily agree. “When?” There is no response. I know we are celebrating my mother’s birthday early, but I have no idea when, so I don’t know when this cake will be needed. I could call my sister, but that sounds difficult. Will she be busy? She is a teacher, and she is busy a lot. She gets up early and seems to be in constant motion from the time she gets off work until...

  • The Postscript: Talking to dogs

    Carrie Classon|Updated Oct 10, 2023

    It’s no secret that I love dogs. I love dogs, and I don’t have one right now because, traveling as much as my husband, Peter, and I do, having a dog makes no sense. We know this. We have discussed this. There are times I would like to have a dog so much it makes my heart hurt. And then I realize how easy it is to get on a plane without worrying about the welfare of a dog, and I know we have — at least for now — made the right decision. And so my solution is to talk to other p...

  • The Postscript: My story

    Carrie Classon|Updated Oct 3, 2023

    I’ve been thinking about forgiveness. A lot has been said on the subject by people a lot smarter than I, so I don’t have anything valuable to add to the discussion at large, but I’ve been thinking of how it affects me, and what a powerful thing it is. I’ve had very little to forgive compared to most people. People have always been kind to me. I am always astonished by how kind people have been — for no reason. As a young person, I received help and advice from strangers...

  • The Postscript: September sunshine

    Carrie Classon|Updated Sep 26, 2023

    He was sitting outside his home on a tiny patio, wearing a fedora and smoking a cigar. He had a portable music player sitting beside him, and he looked as if he was enjoying the September sunshine about as much as anyone could. “Good afternoon!” I said as I passed. “Good afternoon!” he agreed. I don’t smoke, but I like the smell of cigars. My grandpa smoked a cigar occasionally, and the smell of cigar smoke reminds me of my childhood. In fact, all of September reminds m...

  • The Postscript: Talking to strangers

    Carrie Classon|Updated Sep 19, 2023

    I got anxious again today. I think I am getting better at leaving anxiety behind, and then anxiety says, “Not so fast! We have more work to do.” Usually, this has to do with my writing: “Is it good enough? Does she hate it?” But not always. Sometimes I will post something on Facebook, and someone will take offense. Since I make an effort to never post anything controversial or unkind, this always shocks me and makes me wonder if I have any idea how I sound when I write....

  • The Postscript: Up north with Mom and Dad

    Carrie Classon|Updated Sep 12, 2023

    I’m staying “up north” with Mom and Dad, and that is always good. My mom and dad have built a life that is pretty much exactly the way they like it. They have rituals and habits they do almost without thinking. But the amazing thing — to me — is that just about every one of these daily routines ends up giving them a healthier and much happier life. At this point, my dad would snort, and my mom would say I was making them sound like saints, and they’d both shake their heads...

  • The Postscript: Circumstantial evidence

    Carrie Classon|Updated Sep 5, 2023

    It was time to come back from Mexico. It wasn’t because of the weather. The weather was wonderful. The nights up in the mountains were cool, and the days were warm, and sometimes, in the afternoons, a thunderstorm would roll in, and a refreshing rain would fall, leaving the air clean and sweet. No. It wasn’t the weather. And it wasn’t really my family — although, I do miss them. My parents have been in the thick of summer activities at their cabin by the lake. They had lots to...

  • The Postscript: Apple empanadas

    Carrie Classon|Updated Aug 29, 2023

    Usually, just as I am getting close to leaving Mexico, I find some absolutely irresistible treat and have to eat it every single day until I leave. I arrive back in the U.S. a few pounds heavier, wondering how I ever got so carried away. I return to my more or less normal eating habits and more or less normal weight, only to return and discover some new treat across the border. This week, it was apple empanadas. I didn’t know what an empanada was. I thought it was a sort of m...

  • The Postscript: Daddy's home

    Carrie Classon|Updated Aug 22, 2023

    It’s seven minutes after 10 p.m., and the usual ruckus ensues. My husband, Peter, is wearing earplugs. He is in the habit of doing this when we’re staying in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, because our little apartment is right in the center of town and, like all the homes in San Miguel, there is no air conditioning because it is cool this high in the mountains. But the last few weeks have been warm, and it’s nice to have fresh air. So we open the sliding door to our littl...

  • The Postscript: Hola hour

    Carrie Classon|Updated Aug 15, 2023

    Every day, whether here in Mexico or in the U.S., I take a walk. Walking in the morning would be nice, but that’s when I write, and so in the afternoon, I head out to see what the world looks like. I always greet a lot of people on my walk, no matter which country I am in. I talk to dogs if there are dogs involved, or I comment on the weather, or I compliment what someone is wearing, or I simply say, “Hello.” I do pretty much the same thing in either country, and my ability to...

  • The Postscript: Summer cold

    Carrie Classon|Updated Aug 8, 2023

    So, I got a cold. If you catch a cold in the winter, everyone is sympathetic. They tell you to drink hot tea and put on another sweater. A cold in the winter just seems like part of the season, and I can turn the thermostat up and wait it out. A summer cold is totally different. A summer cold seems like an act of idiocy. A summer cold feels like I’m being difficult on purpose. I feel I must have done something really stupid — because who gets sick in the middle of the sum...

  • The Postscript: The painter

    Carrie Classon|Updated Aug 1, 2023

    I see him painting every afternoon. Every day I take a walk and, when I am in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, my walk usually takes me through an old fabric mill that has been converted into gallery space. Most of the galleries sell the work of artists from Mexico City and beyond. But some of the galleries are spaces where artists are both working and selling their work, and the floor is spattered with paint, and easels hold paintings in various stages of completion. Usually,...

  • The Postscript: A boring life

    Carrie Classon|Updated Jul 25, 2023

    I’m writing this on my birthday and feeling more than usually grateful. “What do you want to do?” my husband, Peter, asks, as he always does on my birthday. Peter refuses to celebrate his own birthday, but he only applies the no-birthday rule to himself. I am free to celebrate any way I want — so long as I don’t expect any kind of surprise from him. I don’t. And so I tried to think of what would make my day special, and it was hard. Because, these days, all my days are pr...

  • The Postscript: All the flowers

    Carrie Classon|Updated Jul 18, 2023

    I was reluctant to come back from Mexico this spring, knowing it would still be cold and wet and cloudy. But I’d gotten used to looking for pretty things while in Mexico. I wanted to share the festivals and the art and the colors. I’d been taking pictures and sharing them on Facebook so my friends and family could see a little bit of the world that surrounded me. Then I got back up north, and it seemed like everything had turned to gray. “This is not a reason to stop takin...

  • The Postscript: Not impossible

    Carrie Classon|Updated Jul 11, 2023

    I have always relied upon my cousin Dane. We grew up together. I’m a year older, but he’s the closest in age of my many cousins. Our families went camping together and bought a cabin up north together, and I’ve gotten into the habit of asking Dane for help whenever I’ve needed it, because Dane is the kind of guy who can be relied upon. Dane works as a stage rigger, and he’s the road manager for a band, so he has to know a lot about a lot of things. He understands electrica...

  • The Postscript: Father's Day

    Carrie Classon|Updated Jun 20, 2023

    It’s time to be thinking about Father’s Day — even if all we do is think about it. The woman who suggested Father’s Day in 1909 was named Sonora Smart Dodd. She was raised, along with her five siblings, by her father after her mother died in childbirth. The idea took a long time to catch on, and didn’t become a national holiday until Richard Nixon was in the White House. If you’re thinking it’s too bad that Ms. Dodd wasn’t around to see her dream fulfilled, you’d be wrong — sh...

  • The Postscript: So much

    Carrie Classon|Updated Jun 13, 2023

    I heard him yelling before I saw him. He was in front of the church. His possessions were loaded into a shopping cart, and it appeared he was trying to navigate the steep hill. And he was yelling. Was there a fight? Should I be worried? But when I finally saw him, he was standing alone with his shopping cart. His face was flushed, and his voice was loud. I walked until I stood on the sidewalk in front of him. “What’s the matter?” I asked. He stopped yelling immediately. He lo...

  • The Postscript: Footprints

    Carrie Classon|Updated Jun 6, 2023

    “They put in a new sidewalk,” my neighbor said, “and the first thing that happened was, a cat walked across the cement and left little footprints!” My neighbor was amused. “I hope they leave them. They’re so cute!” I thought those prints would probably survive. No one was going to take the trouble to cover up a few cat prints on the sidewalk with concrete. A few years back, they started putting poetry on the sidewalk, laid right into the cement. I stop and read the poetry on...

  • The Postscript: Too old

    Carrie Classon|Updated May 30, 2023

    My new friend, Betty Lou, started a book club, and she asked me to join. I was delighted. I hadn’t been in a book club for a long time. Because she is a librarian, Betty Lou knows better than most the importance of reading a variety of things and so, at the very first meeting, we read a graphic novel. None of the members of this group are young, and this was the first graphic novel most of us had read. We weren’t sure what to say about it. “This book is very heavy!” one member...

  • The Postscript: Too old

    Carrie Classon|Updated May 23, 2023

    My new friend, Betty Lou, started a book club, and she asked me to join. I was delighted. I hadn’t been in a book club for a long time. Because she is a librarian, Betty Lou knows better than most the importance of reading a variety of things and so, at the very first meeting, we read a graphic novel. None of the members of this group are young, and this was the first graphic novel most of us had read. We weren’t sure what to say about it. “This book is very heavy!” one member...

  • The Postscript: Happy place

    Carrie Classon|Updated May 16, 2023

    I have a sticker that says “My Happy Place,” and I kept it for a while, wondering where to put it. In the end, I stuck it near my desk so I could see it while I write. I am usually happy when I’m writing. On Monday, however, I was not happy. I had a major technology breakdown, and I had no idea what I had done wrong. As it turned out, I had done nothing wrong (which is rare, when it comes to technology). Microsoft had a failure that lasted for almost two hours. During the t...

  • The Postscript: Taking pictures

    Carrie Classon|Updated May 9, 2023

    I like taking photos when I’m out of the country. Photographing things in Mexico is effortless. I’ll never understand the nuances of every festival or ritual, but I can enjoy the pageantry and the color and the incredible effort and artistry that goes in to creating so much beauty. Then I come back up north and look at the mud. It’s a big change. The skies were overcast for the first five days after my return from Mexico. The temperatures were unseasonably low. There was s...

  • The Postscript: Bunny food

    Carrie Classon|Updated May 2, 2023

    The TSA agent looked stern — as they usually do. “I’d like to look inside this bag, ma’am,” he said. “No problem!” I always sound a little too eager when being questioned by an authority figure. I’m trying so hard to prove I have nothing to hide that I sound like I must have something to hide. The agent proceeded to open my carry-on bag. “It’s a bowl!” I told him, with a little too much enthusiasm. My husband, Peter, was supposed to have put the bowl in his checked luggage,...

  • The Postscript: 3,002 suns

    Carrie Classon|Updated Apr 18, 2023

    Our landlord, Jorge, loves his suns. I am sure he loves his son, Jorge Jr., as well, but I am talking about the other kind of sun. This is why there are nearly 3,000 smiling sun faces decorating the hotel where we stay when we are in Mexico. Two more were added yesterday. Much of the time my husband, Peter, and I are in our little apartment in Jorge’s hotel, there is a team of artists working. Fabricio is the father, and usually at least two and sometimes three of his sons w...

  • The Postscript: Burro in pants

    Carrie Classon|Updated Apr 11, 2023

    I saw the burro wearing pants and carrying a basket filled with paper flowers. “Oh, my gosh!” I said. “That poor burro.” There are several burros with this job in this Mexican town and, as burro employment goes, it’s a pretty easy gig. The burro wears a rustic basket filled with bright paper flowers and is led by a man in a similarly rustic costume, and they follow wedding processions, providing photo opportunities for the guests. The burro is photographed dozens of times and...

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