Lucia Frangione

“Mom, I have something very sad to tell you…” my pixilated daughter says over Skype. She hangs her head down with a half gasp, unsure of how to speak it. Her curls fall across her cheek and I can see the little dark gap where her bottom eye tooth used to be. It’s a little bloody. It’s a little more painful than the others. “What, honey? You can tell me.” “I…I don’t believe in fairies anymore.” Her voice breaks with emotion, like she’s betraying the unseen kingdom, causing a Tinkerbell to die. I hum and nod my head, waiting for…

Continue reading

I am visiting Poul and Janice and he is showing me a picture of a halibut he caught. Halibut have eyes on only one side of their head because they bottom feed on the other side. This is a fact that I know, then forget, then get reminded again and always say, “Really?! Wow! Wait, I think I knew that.” Poul explains the nature of halibut to me with such animated passionate interest for knowledge it makes me want to go fishing, write a book about it or – okay, let’s be honest, serve halibut cheeks with miso orange sauce….

Continue reading

I sit at Bill and Renita’s table over a mountain of Mennonite crepes. It’s a beautiful morning in Rosebud, the sun toasting up the rolling hills like hot cross buns. Bill shows me how to operate the breakfast: line the mid crepe with crab apple sauce, then roll, then top with a layer of whip cream, then a drizzle of maple syrup. Bacon on the side. Cheese if you’re – (he wrinkles his nose) if you’re a cheese eater. Delicious. You see, Renita puts her whip cream inside the crepe then rolls…Norma makes her apple sauce without sugar…both of these…

Continue reading

On my way to dinner I merge off of Deerfoot Trail at 100km/hr onto Memorial. The driver in front of me to the left decides to merge into my lane and then she hesitates, slams on her brakes and wiggles about unsure if it’s too late to get back onto the main highway, waiting for an opening. I have to slam on my brakes so hard, there’s nowhere to go, I nearly smash right into her and the guy behind me nearly smashes right into me. Blink! Dead! Gone. My heart thumps in my chest. Why? Why, did I almost…

Continue reading

My sister is at the sewing machine with her mouth in a tight little thinking O. My brother makes the same face and has from the cradle. It makes me smile and want to say “what’s a matter, baby?”. She is designing a Sophia Loren frock for her tomorrow’s rockabilly gig with Eve Hell and the Razors, her fluorescent pink hair catching the sun. A musician friend of theirs has just died from a heart attack, far far far too young. She exchanges melancholic tendernesses with her husband while in a heap of cheerful cherry, check and eyelet. I can’t…

Continue reading

My daughter lays her gentle head carefully onto her pillow. She tucks her curls away from her tender little ears. She just had them pierced and the sight of her studs and their sparkly diamond gem-ness gives her a little thrill up the back of her neck. She doesn’t want any fabric to press against her sore red lobes. She lies there, still, in the night, breathing with a little excitement, thinking of her first day of school…it has come at last! I can see her spidery long lashes flutter against her soft cheeks that still hold some baby plumpness….

Continue reading

Well it’s dress rehearsal and we have our first audience tomorrow and it dawns on me I am not doing my job. I have been skittering around this character. I’ve done my historical research, I’ve decided what region she comes from, I’ve thought about her health, I’ve thought about her record collection…and ever so briefly I have touched on her marriage, her fertility, her history with violence. The director has spent too much time on my scene, in my opinion, because of me. I haven’t landed her yet. I am allowing her to escape into her “character” that she puts…

Continue reading

Half of us who ever legally declared “I do” now legally declare, “Actually, I don’t”. So many exes. It makes me go “o”. I had a reasonably amicable split but many don’t. And the information age takes advantage of this pain and there’s a whole market around figuring out how to be divorced. So many self help books and spiritual practices and websites and blogs and therapists mixed in with unqualified spouters playing Dear Abby. It is so easy to pick and choose, like a psycho-spiritual salad bar, sound bytes to justify any selfishness, fear and emotional violence towards others….

Continue reading

Thanksgiving is coming up and I made a few test pies today with this recipe that I made up last year. Geesh…it’s good. I feel I should share it again with you… Lucia’s Pumpkin Pie with Maple Whip Cream (warning: this pie may cause spontaneous marriage proposals. Antony Holland was the first to ask for my hand after having a piece of this pie. I also wish to credit Kathryn Aberle with the pie crust tips) Pumpkin I roast my own pumpkin. They’re cheap and yummy and you can use the excess to make soup. Get yourself a pumpkin, clean…

Continue reading

Calgary is all sunshine and blue skies again, as though she never even had her bad moon.”Was I grumpy? Was I tempestuous? Oh bother! What’s a girl to do if she can’t have her moods! I don’t even remember that! Here, have another summer day, take a bite out of that pretty apple you harvested in a hurry as the snow fell, and tell me you still love me. Oh don’t be cross!” My sister’s kitchen counters are full of bags of root vegetables she hurriedly pulled out from under the snow. We eat the last of the battered brave…

Continue reading