STAND-UP PADDLING: A DIFFERENT WAY TO SEE ANNAPOLIS
The Washington Post | October 1, 2010 | PDF
After 15 years of ballet and five of Pilates, I figured I might have the balance to keep myself upright on a board that's a longer, wider, thicker surfboard. So when I heard about a stand-up paddle clinic on the Potomac River in Washington a few months ago, I decided my time had come.
A SPINE-TINGLING SCHOOL IN VIRGINIA
The Washington Post | June 30, 2013 | PDF
Karma works in funny ways. Last week in Winchester, at Cat Tail Run School for Bookbinding Arts, I discovered that it wasn’t the jocks or the skateboarders or the punk rockers who grew up to have the coolest workspaces. Hands down, it was the bookworms.
The Washington Post | January 9, 2008 | PDF
I angled the scalpel and scraped the last bits of paint off my rainbow trout’s glass eye, took a step back and gasped. The shiny eye made all the difference. Gary Bruch, my taxidermy sensei for the weekend in Duncannon, Pa., nodded in agreement. He was surprised that a taxidermy novice had done so well. Then again, Bruch had surprised me, too.
BRIDGE OUT, WAY OUT: IN PA, AN OLD GAME MAKES A BID FOR THE HIP SET
The Washington Post | October 18, 2006 | PDF
The moment was so exhilarating, my desire to win so fierce, I had to keep reminding myself: I was sitting at a card table on the outskirts of Amish country playing ... bridge.
IRON MADEN: BLACKSMITHING CLASS LEAVES ONE WOMAN A BIT OVERWROUGHT
The Washington Post | May 10, 2006 | PDF
Sometime between the first thrill at holding a piece of glowing, raspberry-colored metal in tongs and the near-weeping state of exhaustion at day’s end, I decided I will never, ever become a blacksmith.
The Washington Post | December 7, 2005 | PDF
As I stood there breathing in the smell of wood and watching boat builders toil away, my inner watergirl began to emerge. I knew I’d be back, and next time, wielding tools.
QUEASY RIDER: AT A HARLEY CLINIC, A SELF-PROCLAIMED GOOD GIRL NERVOUSLY TAKES THE HOG BY THE HORNS
The Washington Post | August 31, 2005 | PDF
Motorcyclists are fond of saying there are two kinds of riders: those who have crashed and those who are going to crash. So when I found myself kissing the asphalt one hot Saturday in July, I was thankful to have gotten that out of the way.
RIDING LIKE A DREAM FROM STATION TO STATION
The Washington Post | July 13, 2017 | PDF
When you're a child prone to car sickness, the wheels on the bus going round and round are nothing to sing about. Over the years, my aversion to bus travel only grew. Then I found myself in Texas, boarding a Megabus.
