A couple of weeks ago, Wroth — as we affectionately call our story editor and chief punster — gave me a call. “Sonja, I’d like some pictures of your kids for our parenting series slideshow.”
Not skipping a beat, I replied, “Piercings and all?”
I wasn’t sure my two teenagers quite fit the eco-kid image. But then I asked a more serious question: “By the way, I was just talking with my Nikki about global warming. She’s been having nightmares about it. Are you covering that kind of thing?”
“No shit, nightmares?” Wroth doesn’t mince words either. “Why don’t you write about that? It would be a great addition to the series.”
She knew I had been itching to compose ever since joining Grist’s ranks three years ago, and now she was calling me on it.
As the fortysomething office manager to this brood, I am kept on my toes, between all things accounting, the complexities of catering to eclectic demands, and the occasional odd task like trying my darnedest to find organic scotch for David... Read more
