Having grown up in suburban, post-World War II America, I am a flagrant waster of water. I run water over dishes as I wash them, unconcerned as the excess runs down the drain. My husband calls it “The Talking Waters.” I call it hydro-therapy.
When I was a child, I loved my doctor, Frank De Rook. He had come from the Netherlands and practiced medicine with his wife from their family’s home on Fletcher Road in Guilderland.
