On occasion, when my mother was in the mood, we would bake bread. Ingredients would be poured into an old metallic bread bucket, and my siblings and I would take turns with churning the heavy mixture. When the dough eventually formed, it was placed in a large bowl and we covered it with a cloth. My mother would remind me " We need a window with sun Lucy” and I would find just the right lit spot, and place the bowl there. Clocks were checked and we would wait. Once the dough

When the wind stopped, the mosquitos came. At a little past nine in the evening I was sitting in a wooden chair, in a small house by the...

Music moved me, as did those who could emote it so colorfully that I had to move with the heart of it. On weekends I went into the garage...