by Shelly Reuben on February 26th

When I lived in New York City, I was so eager to get letters from home that I tore open ..

by Shelly Reuben on February 19th

Other children, I am told, are brought up listening to stories about Cats in Hats or animals named Piglet and ..

by Shelly Reuben on February 5th

I rushed downstairs. On the kitchen counter, I saw: • A cutting-board • A rolling pin • Melted butter • Flour. ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 29th

Two or three times a year, at no particular day, month or season, my father would get an irresistible urge ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 22nd

The ways in which my father would spontaneously arrange words into oddly juxtapositioned concepts and sentences was a talent of ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 15th

For Samuel Reuben, words were like pebbles in a colorful and carefully assembled rock collection, with an occasional semi-precious stone ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 8th

My father, Samuel Reuben, was part of the War Effort during World War II. His Blinker Training Machine helped ..

by Shelly Reuben on January 2nd

There was a narrow closet in my parents’ bedroom in the big house in Glencoe; in that closet were stacks ..

by Shelly Reuben on December 26th

My father’s infatuation with spools, levers, cranks and switches continued to grow with the size of his family. One unforgettable ..

by Shelly Reuben on December 18th

At one time, my father invested heavily in weaving looms, which he sold at a profit. And dry goods, which ..