These Things Called Doors
This might be a bit odd, but after having spent the past several years living with my parents, my brother, my grandmother and occasionally my grandfather,…
Throwback Thursday: Introducing Abuela Esther
It took some digging but I finally found my first ever post about my grandmother. This was written in the days before she moved in with…
My 2014 Hit List
I like sleeping. A lot. Hence the reason I want to murder people who wake me up earlier than I intend to wake up. For the…
Of Grandparents and Suitcases
The good thing about being an adjunct is that trekking across campus gives you the perfect excuse to purchase a trendy new laptop case (red leather,…
Wisdom from Downstairs: How Local Roads will End Gun Violence
My grandfather is a retired mechanic. Retired for thirty years mind you, and seeing as he never had the good sense to take up golf or…
Post Crumble
I should note that by “scary,” I also mean exhilarating in a step-up-to-the-plate, “I can do this” sort of way. For those of you just tuning…
This is a Wine Tasting, Not a Bar
So, getting back to the Flower Show and my grandmother’s annual pilgrimage to Philadelphia: its 5pm on Thursday and a few of my dad’s co-workers have…
We’re Just Here to See the Wine and Drink the Flowers
Sometimes I have normal weeks, by which I mean I can churn out several reasonably coherent (and typo-free) blog posts in addition to everything else I’m…
The Odyssey Begins
At 9pm, my relief arrived. (This post is written by my dad and continues yesterday’s story of why he missed my birth.) I had an hour-long…
Creatures of the Night (Another afternoon with my grandparents)
Ladies and gentleman, we have skunks. I should have known that an afternoon with my grandparents would provide me with more than enough material to tide…
Easter (and the Eucharist) at The Olive Garden
I was afraid I wouldn’t have anything to write about today—what with having the spent the past week in the middle of nowhere and all—but then…
Vintage Ladies and Vintage Wines or, An Afternoon with my Abuela
Tuesday’s debate about cultural assimilation (as it applies to dating, of course) reminded me of a conversation I had with my grandmother last week. She came…
Kat Echevarría Richter 