Blogging for sport: a real bore

Letters From the Home Front

It was the first day of a new decade, yet it began like all others, save the fact that I felt like someone had beat me repeatedly with a tire iron while I wasn’t looking.

Our house had been commandeered the previous night by a throng of reveling teenagers, leaving my husband and me to ring in the new year sequestered in our room — one we had redecorated for the occasion with a couple of kitchen chairs positioned opposite the miniature television, circa 1996, in what stagers call a "conversation grouping."