Author: Kate DiTullio
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Despite It All
December 25, 2015. When I was a child, the week before Christmas seemed to last longer than the rest of the weeks of the year combined. My anticipation for the wonder of Christmas Eve and the joy of Christmas morning grew tortuous in the final push to that church candlelight service every December 24th. Despite…
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Memory.
One. My mom used to tell the story of my early childhood love for books with her signature blend of love and humorous self-chagrin: “I’d have just put all the board books back on the your shelf, Kate, when I’d turn the corner back into the living room and see you sitting there, with every…
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“Big Love, Small Moments”
“You have another apartment with brick walls, Miss,” she says, her face pixelating slightly at the distance between us. “It’s so cool.” It is cool. June 2022. My apartment in Brooklyn is smaller than the one I had in New Hampshire, and it’s in a two-unit building rather than a 200-unit complex. There’s no washer…
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Another Chapter
What we call the beginning is often the endAnd to make an end is to make a beginning.T.S. Eliot, “Little Gidding” I move to Brooklyn in fourteen days, and in a way doing so will serve as a nice chapter division in my life story. I can imagine an eighteenth-century style title for it: In…
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On Homes and Wildflowers
Fortune seems to smile on me when it comes to finding places to live. I live in a beautiful old factory in New Hampshire at the moment, with exposed brick walls and huge windows looking west at the hills in the distance. I am able to live alone, and can decorate my place just as…
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In Transit
Ever since I was little, “in transit” was my favorite place to be. The sense of adventure, of possibility, enchanted and thrilled me. Whenever we took a family trip to Boston via the Red Line on the subway (locally known as the “T”), I’d stare out the train window at the dark tunnel, waiting for…
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The Parisian Artiste
March 2019 – Paris – Montmartre I followed the tour manager and my sixteen students up the hill of the martyr (Montmartre) in Paris. We were avoiding the gilets jaunes (yellow vests) who were protesting economic inequality in France that spring. Word was they were going to flood the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, and other…
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“The Narrative Thread Skips”
Forcing myself to actually do the grading that needs to be done, DiTullio,I opened Google Classroom and settled in for a long haul.It has always been like this:Classroom time is magic because it is the definition of potential energy:Stored energy relative to an object’s position in relation to other objects and forces.Grading is soul-sucking because…
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On Weaving a Life
I moved to Manchester, NH a week ago. I’m living on my own once more–but in a converted mill building this time, rather than in a stuccoed and tiled apartment complex. I am on the top floor, with sparrows and robins constantly flitting past my window as they prepare to land on the roof above…
Kate DiTullio | Teacher. Traveler. Writer. 