Author Archives: jerry

Knusper, knusper, Knäuschen. Wer knuspert mir am Häuschen?

As Thursday’s and Friday’s snowfall melted away last night, a network of trails was revealed on our front lawn, the remnant of tunnels in the snowpack. Curious. Most likely a mouse. Hardy creatures, and admirably persistent, but unwitting carriers of … Continue reading

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Remembering Marion Simon

Imperious, tenacious, and implacable, even while warm, gracious, and inviting, Marion Simon was a fascinating woman, all the more intriguing and attractive for the seemingly contradictory facets of her robust personality. She could be guarded and enigmatic, ebullient and vivacious, … Continue reading

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“Something and everything”: Higgins’s Trade

     “Well,” the driver said, “you invited him up here. Send him back.”      “He wouldn’t go,” Cogan said. “He’s hungry for the dough, said he really needs dough. Lost his job or something and everything. He wouldn’t go if … Continue reading

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The beauty of the vernacular landscape: robots, Shepard Fairey, and a piece of wood

Earlier this winter, on a drive to Providence, I stopped at the Dunkin’ Donuts at the intersection of Routes 1 and 138, across from the site of the Hannah Robinson Rock and Tower, for an iced coffee and a chocolate-frosted … Continue reading

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Bob Dylan was right about pie crust

Among the infinite activities that we humans concoct, codify, and ritualize, none is more pleasurable, more satisfying, or more mysterious–in the kitchen, that is–than the creation of pie crust. Each of us is hungry for excellence, has her and his … Continue reading

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“… in every holt and heeth / The tendre croppes….”

Yes, it’s neither March nor April, Chaucer fans, but with the arrival of February’s leap day, let’s take a walk to the paradise garden and see how this year’s absent winter has prepared us for spring. Before you know it, … Continue reading

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The Legacy

We took to the road on a recent chilly morning, one of the very few cold days of this rare and welcome winter, for unplanned discoveries in eastern Connecticut. The radio was off. The sound of the tires on asphalt … Continue reading

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Finding stillness at 95 mph

There’s a shopping plaza where it used to be. Driving south on Route 4, just as you cross over Route 102, you’ll notice an old silo tucked in on your left, barely visible by a stand of struggling trees, this … Continue reading

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Rebirth in Death

Unmet friends give us one last gift in their dying: the obituary. I am repeatedly reminded of this blessing in the fruitful pages of The New York Times, meeting artists whom I otherwise would never have discovered were it not … Continue reading

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The Poet of Ulvik

In the summer of 1971, after my sophomore year in college, my friend Michael Morrissey and I went to Europe. We couldn’t afford to travel for three months on the paltry savings from our student work-study incomes, but we determined … Continue reading

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