Hi Friends! I'm posting to let you know that I've started up a new writing site at: sheilamoeschen.com I'll be leaving this blog behind to write on my new digs. If you've enjoyed my writing here, please hop on over there to check out new pieces and more information about how you can work with … Continue reading New Writing Site!
The temperature reached a balmy 1-degree so I thought a walk was in order. New England’s tender pouch is presently being crushed in the hands of some angry, Norse deity of bitterness and frozen misery. Cabin fever is real, which says a lot considering the miracle of WiFi and food delivery services. I layered again … Continue reading Heart-chitecture
Soft, crunching sounds issued beneath my boots as I walked to the edge of the river. From a hundred yards away came the steady exhale of the falls, white noise buffered by the snowpack on the ground and trees. Vermont. A river and a covered bridge. Snow-laced trees imprinted against a morning sky pitched a … Continue reading Currents
They tumble one after another like pieces in a Rube Goldberg machine—Bill, Roger, Harvey, Kevin, Louis, Al, and now Charlie. Tomorrow or the next day a new name will score the newsfeeds and Internet searches. Lately, I open my browser murmuring a thin prayer that it won’t be Hanks or Clooney. Gentleman, if either of … Continue reading Girls Like That
It’s easy to hate on Boston’s City Hall and the surrounding City Hall Plaza pavilion. City Hall anchors the expansive, unremarkable red brick courtyard wedged into a part of the city above the historic Faneuil Hall marketplace and shopping enclave. Aside from the occasional music fest or when the circus literally comes to town, the … Continue reading Revealed
“You cut the heads off,” my father says to my mother. He takes the slim, black Kodack camera out of her hands. At the time, the camera was considered a “pocket” model, despite it being about the size of a pencil box. It had a wheel on the back you’d thumb to advance the film. … Continue reading In The Picture
The city feels like it belongs to me on Sunday mornings. Brunch lines are not much more than a suggestion outside of tiny, hip farm-to-table breakfast spots. Neighborhoods appear emptied out, the inhale before the rest of the day is expelled. The T is sleepy still, lumbering through Boston’s ancient tunnels like a primordial beast. … Continue reading Choose ‘in