I love being home. At home there are cinnamon raisin English Muffins from the co-op and giant bricks of cheddar cheese and really good leftovers. And my mom and dad. And my best friend-family. And Mikey’s Gyros. And I get to be a lazy hobo girl who lives a life not unlike the life of a house cat.

The Fridge. Holds everything good and serves as a family scrapbook. Photobooth strip from Berlin, Dutch clogs, BsAs subway pass, Dad’s souvenir yamaka…. Inside: always leftovers that Mom makes into a kickass lunch. If Dad and I don’t pound it first. She kindly leaves us post-its telling us to keep our paws off.

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We’ve adopted the Italian’s Xmas Eve: fish. Or, shellfish. Crab and clams and mussels, and Camie’s keeping cake. (Aka two-bottles-of-sherry-in-this-cake.) A warmup for the real thing: prime rib and scalloped potatoes and pumpkin bourbon cheesecake… it’s a good thing we go for a hike on Christmas.

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