December 2025 Snapshots

The days are short but they feel very long. So much has happened in the last four months. I have not even begun to process it. Did I enjoy it? I think so! But I had no time to linger or revel because I had too much else to do. I had to be like “Wow, that was cool! Okay, now it’s over, NEXT.”

Jean and the kids gave me this Frankenstein creature squishmallow for my birthday. The silver “bolts” on the side of “his” head absolutely kill me. It’s so funny to me. I keep him on a shelf near my writing desk and he makes me smile every time I look at him.

Right after Thanksgiving, I had to go to New York for a couple things. I couldn’t stay with Allison because she was on the West Coast, and I was horrified at the prices for my normal Holiday Inn. It was suddenly $400 a night. Why is life like this now? I actually remember a time when a train ticket price was the same price today, tomorrow. And you could count on hotels to be the same damn price, especially a Holiday Inn, for God’s sake. So I searched around and found this other hotel in Hell’s Kitchen, where I could actually get a room with a single bed that was significantly less money (which should have clued me in). And this ^^ was my room. It was tiny. With two treacherous steps up to the bathroom. And it opened onto this balcony – the balcony had some trash on it – discarded cups and stuff. gross! No other rooms opened out onto the balcony, this one was mine. The room was stiflingly hot, so I kept the door open, which was a weird sensation and I love the city sounds, and it cooled off the room, but I was afraid of rats – even though I was far above the street. I closed the door and lay rigidly on my single bed. I felt like an old-school traveling salesman back in the day, staying in uncomfortable boarding houses because I’m too broke to get a nice room. I was laughing the whole time at my surroundings. And the hotel was loud, lots of raucous partiers in other rooms. I was only there a couple of nights and comfort was not at all a factor in my stay but it was a funny experience.

This is a classic Sheila still life. I was at the gallery in Lincoln Center for the NYFCC vote. Jason Bailey remembered a conversation we had literally months ago about Scott Eyman’s new Joan Crawford bio, and he remembered, and brought me his advance copy. So thoughtful! So I’m voting on new movies while staring at the woman who basically helped create the Hollywood star system. Can’t wait to read it.

Very special night, with my sister, my brother, and my nephew playing a show together. A songwriters’ circle, Nashville-style, which my sister has established up in Westchester, but this one was in a really cool club in Rhode Island. It was so special. They’re all so talented.

We’ve had quite a bit of snow, which has been great. It was a very very sad month in Rhode Island because of the shooting at Brown University, plus I have a pretty intimate connection in Brookline, which made the whole tragedy even more eerie. I know that street. It’s a block away from the apartment I know well. I know how quiet those streets are. Brookline is a close community too. It’s a haven. I had this weird feeling the two events were connected, but that’s neither here nor there. A terrible day for our state. And we are continuing to pick up the pieces as the snow fall. This is the view out my kitchen window, with some special talismans on the sill. An angel given to me decades ago by – I think? – my friend Liz. She’s survived all the moves. I love her so much. A sequined pumpkin, a party favor from the baby shower of Ceileidh, the daughter of one of my oldest friends. A little elephant, given to me by my friend Betsy, another old-timer, grade school. A little sculpture with a middle finger raised, given to me by my friend Meredith. Lots of history. It pleases me to look at it.

I live in Quonset Hut central. I’ve always wanted to live in one of these.

He’s so dear. This is his favorite spot. My thigh as his pillow.

I spent Christmas at my sisters with the kids, sleeping over on Christmas Eve. We woke up early for presents, and then I left and took my mother to church, which we’ve been doing every Sunday. It was a lovely quiet morning. I liked this optical illusion. There is only one tree.

One of my presents. A Frankenstein jigsaw puzzle, with artwork by the same artist who did the Gatsby puzzle we all struggled with last summer. I need to set it up at my kitchen table and work on it, with my talismans on the window sill watching over me.

Driving by the river, I pulled over to look. It is bleak and New England-y and I love it. I love my home state and it is grieving right now.

We watched When Marnie was There – a favorite of my nieces – and we all cried. Then we discussed it. We had a good conversation about the storytelling and when we “figured it out”. It’s a beautiful film.

More snow. More shoveling. More ice-scraping.

My backyard in the golden sunset light. Shiveringly cold. Pretty!

I met up with Jim and Jackie at an isolated little breakfast place, where you had to drive over this little causeway to get to it. It’s rickety and old, with “marine supplies” sold on the first floor, and a marine right outside, the boats looming there covered in snow. The parking lot was treacherous, as were the stairs up to the breakfast floor. We hadn’t “de-briefed” since the Hearth, so we had breakfast, talked about our experiences, and cried a little bit. Supporting each other, wherever we are at. My old good friends. And here we still are.

We walked around the marina. There had been no shoveling done. I pointed at the little Shell sign out on the dock and said, “A gas station for boats!” Jim said, “Yeah. Marina.” I’m still laughing.

This is Frankie’s Christmas present, a little furry window hammock. It was easy to put together and he looked at it with total alarm. It is in his favorite window. He did not understand what was happening and literally everything makes him scared at first. What is happening. I fear change. say his eyes. And he forgets. I open the cupboard and he stares at me, scared. Like I’m going to put him in there, close the door, and never deal with him again, or something. I am constantly saying, soothingly, “It’s okay, Frankie. I’m just … opening the door. Chill.” Then once he chills, this is what happens. He immediately figured out that this new weird alarming thing was for him and he climbed into it, making biscuits like mad, and purring so loudly I could hear him across the room. Then he plopped his head over the side, and relaxed in the sun for hours. So adorable.

A good thing about the hammock is it is portable. I moved it to the window in my study because I was working there and he needs to be in whatever room I am in. This left his favorite window open again and he just sat on the arm of my dad’s reading chair, staring out at the snow (more snow).