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By Bill Primavera When I was a little boy, I was somewhat jealous of my older sister Marian who took tap dancing lessons, when I was not offered that opportunity by my sweet but tough father from South Philadelphia.  To

By Bill Primavera Blanche DuBois, both the heroine and tragic character in Tennessee Williams’ “A Streetcar Named Desire,” hated a naked lightbulb, as much as “a rude remark or a vulgar action.” While the playwright intended to have that lightbulb

By Bill Primavera You’ve heard the proverbial expression, going down like a ton of bricks? That’s what happened to me as I was traipsing gingerly though a thicket of woods on my former property when suddenly my foot made contact

By Bill Primavera As interested as I have always been in antiques and nostalgia, it is surprising that I possess only two family heirlooms, one of which is a Roseville vase, named for the Ohio town where its company was

By Bill Primavera Readers may find me odd when I confess that what I miss most about no longer having a property to tend to is the opportunity to indulge in my most therapeutic outdoor chore, weeding. Yes, I loved

By Bill Primavera As I look from my top-floor window at Trump Park at the yellows, reds and browns of the leaves responding to fall weather, I remember when that once signaled the time to get busy with the rake.

By Bill Primavera Years ago, I had a well-known client for whom I did public relations who had received a beautiful bouquet of flowers for some special event in her life. I complimented the sender for something so lovely for

By Bill Primavera Perhaps it’s an inherited or genetic trait, but I have always been fascinated by the possibilities for surfaces outside. My father was a flooring specialist, focused on such materials as cement, linoleum and terrazzo. At work in

By Bill Primavera As I sit in my home office, I can see openly into my living room, dining room and partially into my kitchen. The plan is referred to as “open,” which in contemporary times has seen walls come