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Author: michaeldevault

Sinatra and Hepburn

The Jet Set

Or: How Little Mama Inspired Visions of a Glittering Future When I was about 12, my grandmother and I were sitting in the sunroom playing Gin and chatting. Memories of the subject of our conversation — the what or, more likely, the¬†who — is a long-dead casualty to time. What I do remember, though, is…
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Cooking the sausage

Creatures of Habit

Or: How backing into my parking space, making my bed every morning, and a Sunday frittata saved my life. Writing is a strange vocation to pick up. You take words — the things you and I use in conversation every day, whether we’re cajoling our kids (I’m looking at you, oh precious daughter o’ mine)…
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