I was the only woman on my street who had never had a
Cuisinart or a hysterectomy. Or even an affair. I felt there
was something wrong with me. When I mentioned my
anxiety to my friends and family， they all agreed that
thel;e was.
S~eral winked knowingly: \"You re thirty-eight-and
neither you nor Bert has ever-c mon， you re kidding.\"
Our doctor advocated hysterectomies as a routine pro-
cedure; that \"damned thing\" would be causing me trouble
soon. But I had gone to see him for poison ivy， and I
decided major surgery wasn t called for. My friend Judy
said， \"Why don t you just get a Cuisinart? You ll love it.\"
\"No I won t，\" I said. \"I ve just had the kitchen redone.
For the first time in my life it s
thinking of having it sealed off.\"
completely clean and I m
\"Then you d better get a college degree.\"
/That was the other thing I didn t have that most of my
friends were \"into.\"
I thought of all those paintings and drawings stacked in
the basement; the ones I d done while the children were
small. I d never taken them to a dealer or even entered
them in a show， but had always vaguely thought of them
as leading to a career-someday in the future.
\"I just threw all my old magazines and clippings away
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