Bonni Brodnick Blog

There is something priceless about finding an old drawing from elementary school. This crayon rendering accompanied an "essay" on sportsmanship that I wrote in Miss Shalit's second grade class at Glenwood Elementary School in Short Hills, N.J.  What I particularly like about the drawing is the hairband and the scalloped hem of my purple dress. My hair is carefully coiffed into a flip with brown crayon and my cankles seem to melt into purple shoes that have just a hint of heel. Why is there a cloud coming out of my head? Did I mean to write another comment? Does the house on the right have an awning? Or is that a car blue parked in the driveway? Is a green kayak resting up against the house? Is the light violet stream on the bottom left a fallen fork? Or a path into the house? And where are my glasses? No matter! It is a sunny day in the life of Bonni Dee Kogen. (See the yellow sun.) Does this drawing have anything to do with sports?  I don't think so ... and...

It's 80-degrees in my studio and rather than turn on the AC, I brought down the oscillating fan from the attic. Within minutes, I was taken adrift by the whir. "Why do I feel so relaxed?" I thought. And "Why do I suddenly feel so sleepy?" I share the calm herewith. ( Click here . ) A fter you wake up, let me know how the retro-white noise made you feel. Cool? (as in "not hot") Chilled out?

What can I say? (I'm a giver.) Here I am feeding Coco Puffs to my Tiny Tears whom I (creatively) named "Tina."  Tina Tiny Tears. (That's an easy towel monogram, isn't it?) I soon abandoned Tina for Chatty Cathy, followed by Barbie and her sister Midge, followed by an entire legion of trolls. My favorite was a white long-hair troll from which I created Albert Schweitzer as the main stand-in for a diorama book-review. I remember filling the top of a peanut butter lid with water, and placing it on grass and leaves I had gathered to simulate the African jungle. Orange peels (which stunk up the classroom after a few days) served as Albert Schweitzer's row boats should he want to take a spin around on Peanut Butter Lid Lake.

Memorial Day weekend is the start of summer. Amidst the fun activities, take a moment of gratitude for those men and women who currently serve our country, and for those who valiantly lost their lives while fighting for freedom. My Uncle Stanley died at the age of 18 in a foxhole in one of the last battles at Okinawa. I have visited his gravesite several times at the National Memorial Cemetery of the Pacific in Hawaii. It's heartbreaking to think how this young man wasn't able to live his life to the fullest. He made the ultimate sacrifice and has made my family proud. We are grateful to my Uncle Stanley ...  and to all in the military for their courage and valor in the name of freedom.

Visual primers for summer:

                                                        Circa: 1995 (DHB: 7 years old. AB: 5 years old) As a writer, I am a chronicler.  In my office, I have shelves and shelves of journals that archive different chapters and adventures, including falling in love with my husband, our honeymoon, trips to St. Barth's, France, Hawaii and beyond.  I have journals that document Pregnancy #1 (David) and Pregnancy #2 (Annie). Of my most prized possessions are two baby journals that record phrases, sentences and perspectives of the children as they grew up. The journals are joyful remembrances of being a young mommy and continue to document the life-journeys of #1 and #2. (I just updated my son's journal with the news, "David H. got engaged!") While straightening up a shelf recently, this card slipped out. I can't figure out what the occas...

The other day I ran out of my office for a meeting AND ... left my glasses and cell phone on my desk and my wallet under my desk. The lucky thing is that I remembered my shoes. So what is the mind game when the only thing frontal-lobe is getting the heck out of somewhere? A mad dash can lead to brain blank-out. Of course, I was poised and focused at the meeting. When it was over though and I was back in my car, I searched my purse to find my reading glasses (GONE) so that I could check my email messages on my phone (GONE.) A grande cafe latte expresso at Starbucks seemed in order until I noticed that my wallet, too, was GONE. There was a sense of freedom in not having glasses. I also didn't give a whistle if I wasn't receiving emails and, until I located my wallet, yo no tengo nada de dinero . As one of my favorite teachers at an independent school in Greenwich, Conn. used to say, "Check, please!"