Bethany Lee is a freelance writer who lives in Mono.
An accidental discovery teaches an important life lesson, that knowing too much can spoil all the fun.
The familiar sounds of home are a comforting routine that tells us all is right in the world – sounds you hope you can listen to forever.
Writer Bethany Lee muses on her father’s carefully organized chaos in the garage as her young son begins to explore his grandfather’s tools.
When the call of the road beckons, it’s time to plot a course for new adventures, towns and cities.
For many of us, as the daylight grows shorter and shorter, it’s a time to gather with friends and family.
“What do you want to be when you grow up?” It’s such a familiar question. We throw it out to the littlest of our littles, as early as age three or four, once their interests start to sparkle.
“I don’t know how to swim,” I said quietly.
I looked out the window and pondered my own answer to the question I’d asked.
So many old phone numbers came rushing back to me when I was doing some cleaning recently and found a tiny leather address book.
Covid has forced us to work in new ways amid absurd family pressures. But coincident with the pandemic, we have been also confronting broader issues.
As the pandemic wanes, our columnist taps into her nostalgia for board games with a fresh-out-of-the-package Scrabble.
A year in we’ve been through so much – but we’re still putting one foot in front of the other.
Remembering the one and only Marie of Marie’s Driver Training.
To make things better in my family, we’ve done our best with paint and elbow grease to improve our physical space, in the hope of providing fresh perspectives to brighten our minds.
Are we in the middle of the pandemic, approaching the end, or is it just the beginning?
As I watch Adrian’s pencil continue across the page, I’m thinking about the messiness of learning in this period of his life.
Will we ever return to a time when mending, reusing or not buying in the first place is the norm?
Having a friend over, the excitement and anxiety of sharing your space, was such a thrill.