Bear Mountain

It’s the tiny bear trinket I remember, possibly more than the place itself. A delicate little figurine with a soft sprinkling of real fur fuzz on its body which I loved to carry around and stroke as if it were a real pocket pet. My dad bought this cherished gift for me and my three

Screwdriver Parties Part II

Thirty-four years ago, I was hired as an Advertising Sales Assistant to a man named Jim Cappello. We worked selling advertising for a publishing company located in midtown Manhattan. I can still envision our sparse office located in that beautiful Art Deco building called The Chanin, between 41st and 42nd Streets. I recall the newspaper

Daily Post Photo Challenge “Vivid”

It always draws controversy. I recall a neighbor glancing at the painting with the discerning eye of a collector remarking, “How in-ter-esting!” Love it or hate it, it hangs on my bedroom wall. This vivid, lively swirl of jade green, orange and blue with the upside down heart (my interpretation) The painting that brings the memory of my father closer to me

Screwdriver Parties

Pulling into my driveway late one afternoon, my eyes fell upon a dark sedan sitting idly.  Unable to recognize a face through the tinted windows and noting a New Jersey plate, a state from which I knew no one, a slight feeling of unease ensued. And then as if in slow motion, a window went

The Simple Pleasure of A Haunted Hayride

Originally posted on Rocky Parenting:
Every Autumn since I moved to Connecticut twelve years ago, I enjoy a Halloween ritual that is yet to grow old.  The haunted hayride at Stew Leonard’s. Participants young and old, board a tractor amid bales of hay and are transported through an underground cavernous world of eerie ghoulish figures, though this year a tribute to…