Today is Carol Todaro’s birthday

I guess I’ve known Carol Todaro about as long as anybody. She’s the youngest kid in our family.

Now there are many things I know about Carol. She is very thoughtful, gracious, sophisticated in her own cool trademark style. She likes a lot of the things I like, denim, black garments, white garments, scarves, Alice Munro (did you get your present yet?), Florida, walking, good, tasty, healthy food and wine. We have much in common, for sure. Yet we are entirely different people raised by the same two humans.

But then there are things you don’t know about Carol, can’t know, the unknowns you know and those you haven’t the ability to know. Here’s a little something about a poet who is far from our favorite. In fact we just wish he would go away now. I had read a little of Rumsfeld’s poetry but this is extensive. Thanks for sending it, Carol. Laughter is kind. (I guess one of many things our parents taught us, especially dear old Dad, rest his soul, is this: We don’t take shit from anybody. And we sure know how to laugh about it.)

If you ever have a chance to catch Carol’s art (and writing) you’re a lucky person. Carol’s work is unique. So is she.

Carol is my friend of many years. She’s my confidant, sometimes conscience, fellow family consigliore, but friend is the best word. I guess I’ve been some of those things to her from time to time. (I’ve also been her terrorist, but I was a kid and she was my little sister, OK?)

One huge Happy Birthday, Sister. Lot’s of love going out to you today.

Runaway,

Alice Munro’s short story collection in NYT Ten Best Books of 2004. To the moon, Alice! Maybe one of Jupiter's.