August 2009: We stop at Gritty’s on the way back from Monhegan.
Right then I don’t think I have enough cash for sodas to go with their chicken fingers so I say to my daughters, Rachel and Tali, “Can you make do with water?”
“Anyone who becomes an artist is stupid,” Rachel folds her arms and scowls at me. “I’m going to go to Dartmouth and get an MBA. I’m never going to be poor.”
Jan 2010: 14 year-old Rachel shows me her portfolio. This mournful self-portrait was my favorite.
Artist? Or MBA? Hmmm.
Maybe both.
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