The Story of Autismland (#614)

About two weeks ago—the day a winter storm coated the roads in ice and slush—my computer screen froze in the midst of loading my homepage. I tapped several combinations of keys to no avail—the keyboard seemed frozen, too—sighed, turned off the machine, waited a minute, and pushed the on/off button again. There was a slight … Continue reading

The Story of Autismland (#614)

About two weeks ago—the day a winter storm coated the roads in ice and slush—my computer screen froze in the midst of loading my homepage. I tapped several combinations of keys to no avail—the keyboard seemed frozen, too—sighed, turned off the machine, waited a minute, and pushed the on/off button again. There was a slight … Continue reading

The Translator (#613)

Translations, the play by Irish playwright Brian Friel that Jim and I saw on Tuesday night in Manhattan, takes place in 1833 in rural Ireland and, except for some phrases of Latin and Greek, is all in English. This might not seem to be anything special, until one considers that the majority of the play’s … Continue reading

Time Off (#612)

I have been feeling guilty—–because Charlie hasn’t practised the piano since Monday. He has been spending his days with my parents (aquarium yesterday, train into New York today) while having the week off from school, and I have been spending extra time at work doing several small but suddenly urgent tasks that have piled up … Continue reading

One Day At a Time (#611)

When one parent of autistic child meets another parent of an autistic child, there is an instant bond. You and the other parent may have very different, and even opposing, views on things—on what treatments work best (ABA? Floortime? biomedical?) and on what the cause of autism is (genes? vaccines?), and maybe if you sit … Continue reading

Translations (#610)

The curtain rose to reveal a man and a woman sitting opposite each other and very close as he moved his lips in exaggerated fashion and said "Say ‘my—-name—-is—–Sarah.’" At first only sounds came from her mouth, and as he repeated his words the lights slowly revealed the dirt floor, the broken-banistered stair case, the … Continue reading

Ready, Go! (#609)

On a walk to the train this morning, we heard the sound of barking behind and from above. Charlie stopped stamping chunks of snow and ice flat and turned his eyes backwards, just as a garbage trunk grunted past us with a large brown dog hanging out the right-side window, right at Charlie. “Daddy!” Charlie … Continue reading

Ready, Go! (#609)

On a walk to the train this morning, we heard the sound of barking behind and from above. Charlie stopped stamping chunks of snow and ice flat and turned his eyes backwards, just as a garbage trunk grunted past us with a large brown dog hanging out the right-side window, right at Charlie. “Daddy!” Charlie … Continue reading

Map to Trains (#608)

Blue blanket, three squishy sensory pillows in green and blue, a toy snowman, the CHARLIE book, green squishy ball, a miniature pair of flip-flops belonging to a stuffed bear, an old pair of my flip-flops, two blue shirts of Jim’s, photo calendar of February, daily picture schedule, 4 smaller fleece blankets in a pile: To … Continue reading

Gong Hay Fat Choy (#607)

One of my aunts sent me a Chinese New Year’s email in…….Chinese. I was able to read most of the words without a dictionary: I studied Mandarin when I was in college and Cantonese (which is the only language that my grandmother, Ngin-Ngin, speaks) for just a few months when I was 7 years old. … Continue reading

  • What’s all this about?