Tags » Shiksa

Roth, Woody and Me: An Indignant Tale of Creative Lenses

I’ve been reading a lot in my early middle age.  Maybe to beat back boredom or loneliness.  Maybe to beat back a very fertile imagination that likes to focus on mortality. 4,254 more words


Christmas Eve for the Jews

 by Amanda Ann Klein

The news had to be bad because the doctor, the one we had never met before, would not look at or speak to us as she led my mother and me through the hallways of the ICU, still decorated with the last gasps of a hospital Christmas.

2,426 more words

I'm a dirty poor, no love for me!

I know I’m in a grown up relationship because my in-laws hate me.

A tattooed, working-class, single-mom, shiksa isn’t good enough for a boy from an affluent neighbourhood? 360 more words

Misfit Matriarch