Rob

Small love letters

I’ve been writing love letters to Rob every night and tucking them in places that I know he’ll look when he gets home.  There’s one in the refrigerator.  One under his journal — but not inside, as that would have required opening it.  One on his computer.  I’ll leave one on his pillow. ((He doesn’t […]

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Pining for Rob

I talked to Rob very briefly tonight.  The area he’s in gets spotty cellphone coverage, at best, so I’ve had one text message from him, but otherwise it’s been radio silence.  He found a place tonight where, if he didn’t turn his head, I could hear him.  le sigh. I miss him. Which is absurd,

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Heading back to NYC

After two fun-filled weeks of writer’s retreat and a medical emergency, I’m heading from one home back to the other. I’ll see Rob tonight and get to spend two days with him, before we begin a month of out of town trips, each of which has us poised to arrive back in NYC on the

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One year in NYC

I totally missed this last week. But we moved to NYC on June 28 last year. It’s been an interesting year.  I’ve been so busy that I can barely breathe, but Rob spent then entire year looking for work.  And that’s almost literal.  He sold his first article a bare two days before our one

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The moose at home

The show that used the moose head ended today and Rob handled the process of picking the props up from the theater for me. He just sent me this email about moving the moose. It’s in our hall now but we had to walk it up the stairs. Comically, we managed to coax it into

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The damage

Rob says: Broken turn signal, broken clutch lever (I just went to BMW and paid $157 for a replacement to make the cycle rideable while I wait for the insurance adjuster to call), damaged front fender, damaged hand guard, damaged exhaust pipe, and shredded cover. That’s what I can see at the moment. I’m going

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Hamleting after all.

Rob signed up for the virtual ticket line last night and, much to our surprise, won tickets to the show. We’re going after all. Just in case you don’t know about the virtual line: While the majority of Free tickets for Shakespeare in the Park are distributed via the Free line at the Delacorte Theater,

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No Hamlet, no cry

Rob and I left the apartment at the same time today, which is a rare occurrence. I kissed him goodbye, got on the train and he headed off to ride his motorcycle. When I got off the train, my phone rang. Rob. He rarely calls me, so I had a sinking sensation. “Hi. What’s wrong?”

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We have flatkökur!

Our friend Daddi is in town for a big expo and he brought us several packs of our favorite Icelandic treat. Flatkökur are flat cakes, that sort of look like burned crepes. Made with rye flour, they are sooooo tasty and I’ve missed them a lot. There’s nothing comparable here.

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