Carrie Classon

A deal of a lifetime can get you more cheese than you can eat in it

3/18/2020 My husband, Peter, likes buying in bulk.
Peter hates paying shipping fees. He never wants to run out of anything and he loves a bargain. This is why we buy coffee in enormous bags, crackers by the case, nuts and raisins 10 pounds at a time, rice in 20-pound bags, and beans in 50-pound bags. It is sometimes a little alarming when the boxes arrive.
Romantic Impulses should be just that…impulses

3/11/2020 I was looking at my hair in the mirror.
“I think I might need a touch-up,” I noted to my husband, Peter.
“Hmmm,” Peter replied, without looking up. (Which means, “If you think so honey. I honestly believe you might be able to hold off a week!” I can always count on Peter for a thoughtful response.)
Starting a brand new chapter with fiction on my brain

3/4/2020 Last week I started doing something I’ve never done before. I started writing fiction.
I realize this does not sound shocking since I’m writing every week. My husband, Peter, says I write fiction all the time—every time I write about him. But the truth is, I have not written a word of fiction since I was in the second grade and wrote, “The 500-Pound Mouse.”
Learning to whistle

2/26/2020 My sister learned to whistle at age two.
She was precocious in other ways as well. She knew how to read by the time she started kindergarten. She demonstrated a physical dexterity I never did. She was much more talented at the piano. But it was the whistling that really got to me.
On a subway with a cigar box of rainbow colored threads

2/19/2020 I spent the weekend in New York City.
I hadn’t been to New York in quite a while. I was performing at a theater conference and so was traveling alone, without my husband, Peter.
New York intimidates me — as all big cities do. I am not a nervous traveler, generally, but I keep my possessions close at hand and my eyes open — which is why I noticed the young man in the black athletic shirt on the subway.
A night at a historic funeral home

2/11/2020 “What do you think?” my husband, Peter, asked about the link he’d sent me as we prepared to head home from the holidays.
“The funeral home?” I asked.
“Yeah, that one.”
“I thought it was a joke.”
“No, it’s right on our way.”
Performing with a cowboy in New York City is life’s next challenge

2/5/2020 I want to start out by making it clear that I have nothing against cowboys.
One of the new developments in my life is that I recently got a manager, Bob, to book performances of my writing. I’ve never had a manager before, so I didn’t know what to expect. But Bob is a wonderful fellow. He says he thinks of the folks he represents as family—which is something a lot of people say, but I get the feeling Bob actually means it. So, I was eager to keep Bob happy. But then he suggested I perform with a cowboy.
“Carrie, I know this is a crazy idea, but I want you to think about it!” Bob said.
Amazement that comes with finding something dear that once was lost

1/28/2020 I lost a feather the other day and I understand this does not qualify as news.
But I want to say—for the record—that this was a really nice feather. I paid good money for it and pinned it to my favorite blue hat. I wore that hat out for a walk, one evening, when it was chilly.
Living your best life on the season’s edge makes you appreciate little things

1/21/2020 “I like the edge season!” my husband, Peter, said, as we watched the moon rise over the mountains and felt a chill breeze rise with it. As far as I know, Peter invented this expression. He might have meant the “season’s end,” but I like the idea of the “season’s edge” better.
Peter and I are staying in the south of Spain and, even here, the season is changing. Restaurants that have been open all summer and fall are finally giving their employees a few days off. Menus are changing, hours are shortening, outdoor tables are now used only during the day and only on days that are sunny. Clouds suddenly appear over the mountains and the diners scatter, looking for somewhere cozy indoors.
And I agree with Peter: I like it.
The mysterious "Cookie Situation" of the Atlantic

1/14/2020 “People have been asking about the squeaking of the ship,” our captain reported, somewhere in the middle of the Atlantic, “but I must tell you, this is nothing to worry about.”
He then proceeded to explain how a ship needed to give in heavy swells, just as an airplane had to flex during flight. “Otherwise,” he explained cheerfully, “the ship would snap in two!”
I’m not sure this was the reassurance worried passengers were looking for.
My husband, Peter, and I are on the second week of our trip across the ocean. The final stop at port has been cancelled due to storms in the Atlantic. This means we will have seven straight days at sea.