THE WINO IS A PERSON IN YOUR NEIGHBORHOOD

I moved into my new place August 1st, a shoebox on the south side of the capital city at the tip of a park. This marks the first time in twenty-six years that I have ever lived alone, and yet I don't really feel alone at all. I am surrounded by people. I hear their shower running upstairs. I hear them singing to themselves next door. I hear them driving their cars outside my window. Sometimes, I sit on my bed and just watch them pass by. It is so much better than Television. They are talking on their cell phones, smoking cigarettes, smooching their boyfriends, scratching their asses and lost in their heads. But my favorite is watching them parallel park.

Anyway. When I first moved in, I had precious little to work with. Seriously. I had a coffee mug and ten pairs of chopsticks. And that's it. One night I 'tossed' a salad in a plastic bag. Another time I sifted tealeaves through a vegetable strainer. Not too easy, that. But last weekend I bought a sixteen piece set of real-grown-up-got-her-big-girl-pants-on-dishes. Now you are all invited to dinner chez Winter Wren.