Tuckahoe is a place, a village, in Westchester County, New York. Not far from New York City.


I love saying it. Love the sound of it.  So magical.

When I was young my dad would say, “Come on,we’re going to Tuckahoe”.

We were going to Tuckahoe to visit my Aunt Amy, a nun who lived in a convent there.

I always pictured Tuckahoe as a place of enchantment, a little jewel at the edge of a forest.  Still do.

In reality, it’s like most of the other Westchester towns. Pleasing to the eye and quite affluent.  Perhaps a bit smaller.

Today I live in Middletown. Middle. Mediocre. Dreadful.

I want to live in Tuckahoe. Moving to Aunt Amy’s convent is out of the question. Perhaps a studio apartment.

And then when people ask me where I’m from I’ll be able to say



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