Anger is the sensation of 'peppercorns in a mortar and pestle, grinding around in a circle until they finally yield and crack.'
For the first forty years of my life, I was quite happy as an adopted child who knew nothing about his origins.
One of my friends was disappointed that the chefs didn't cook the pig’s head and trotters.
Natalie Babbitt’s story has been on my mind all week as I sat by my mother’s bed in the nursing home.
I like to think honesty and openness always trump shame.
