A memory: My high school was a converted mansion in a Long Island neighborhood of other stately homes, each set in green and secluded gardens. Most days, no one was around except for the gardeners of those homes that were well-kept. Other homes had an air of fairy-tale neglect, their owners who-knows-where. As students, we did volunteer hours each week, and a teacher had found out that one of the homes was owned by an elderly lady who lived alone.

The teacher arranged for 2 students to visit each week, so my friend Miriam and I found ourselves welcomed into a home that was decorated as a fab 70's tiki party with a wet bar in every room, lacquer furniture, palms & tropical prints. I don't recall the woman's name, but she sat us down each week in her overstuffed living room with all the tropical trinkets (overlooking the non-tropical Long Island lawn), and treated us to crackers and sweets. She had a coffee table prepared for us with little glass dishes of candied jordan almonds, gumdrops, nonpareils, saltines and ritz crackers, sometimes breadsticks, mints or candy canes. There was soda or tea to drink, too.

She was very soft spoken and liked to ask about our schooldays. I was entranced by her voice… and a ferris wheel made of glass that always sat on the table, from which she served candy in its little glass gondolas. After a few weeks, the teacher switched up the volunteer assignments and neither I nor Miriam ever saw the woman with the tiki-themed mansion again. But I still think about her. She was a sweet and eccentric hostess.

I made a 6-part pdf ‘photo book’ of the memories of these crackers & candy afternoons, using AI (dalle 2), and minted it with this story. So if you collect one, it’s like you were right there with us.