Category: Kansas City

How We Remember Alone

When I lived in Kansas City, I was single. This meant that I spent a great deal of my energy and mind space being frustrated and unhappy about my “alone”ness. Like most young women (and men too, I guess), I really wanted to find someone special to connect with, to be with, so long as…

Becoming Absorbent

I haven’t been posting as frequently lately. I don’t consider this writer’s block, though I once did. This is because I have been thinking. A Little Story Once I sign up for a pottery class. My friend, Rita, forced me. She berated me until I went. Fine, I said. I am not writing anyway. Might…

Seven Years Since Kansas City

Colin and I met when we both lived in Kansas City. This June we will have lived away from Kansas City for 7 years. We left because we felt the call of life all its opportunities. We wanted to launch our life on a raft of experience we could build together. On Understanding Risk I…

My Favorite… Poem

Want to torture me? Ask me who my favorite AUTHOR is. Or my favorite film. AAHHH! It’s really like asking the old woman who lived in the shoe which is her favorite child. I mean, can she even remember all of them? But I do have a poem that I love and come back to…

The Beginning of Gone

Larry was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer’s disease, He’s at the beginning of the journey toward the end. Yeah, I mean, they’ve given him the magical pill, but there aren’t any guarantees. Well, just that one guarantee. Larry’s been making art that evolves from nature for a long time. He’s put the essentially impermanent into…

#reverb10, Day 29: Tearing Down Walls

A combination of the day 29 prompt (Defining Moment: Describe a defining moment or series of events that has affected your life this year) and my decision to finally read “Eat. Pray. Love” made me realize what my defining moment of the year was. My old friend, JD, came out to visit and to work…

Choosing Here, or the Hereafter

A Guest Post by Valorie Engholm I don’t know if there’s an afterlife or not, but I want to tell you a story about it, and it’s not an easy story for me to tell. A few years ago I became very ill. It started slowly, with some aching knees in the afternoon and evolving…

On Loving Things

Thanks Tara! It’s Another We Scout Wednesday great topic. I have talked often here about how we should all de-stuff ourselves. Get rid of everything and just stop the consumption train. It’s no secret how I feel about that. I am the anti-packrat. At my house, if you leave your sh*t on the counter too…

Losing Late Nights

It suddenly occurred to me — when I was in the basement waiting to see if the washer would flood/leak — that I am no longer a Night Writer. I used to stay up and journal, scribble, angst-ify long after the sun had gone and the house had gone quiet. In KC, I’d sit on…

On the Meaning of Chex Mix…

My sudden craving for Worcestershire sauce-and-butter- encrusted cereal is a hint about my heritage. Maybe in techno-America, the idea of “heritage” is almost obsolete, except that it isn’t. My iPhone 3G will be nostalgia in a year or two, so hearkening back to the “old days” of baking Chex Mix with my sisters for the…

WSHU – A “Very Special Fundraiser”

Interrupting my A.M. snoozing time/Morning Edition listening hour this morning was Kate Remington of WSHU’s classical music morning telling me that she’d gotten to work early this morning for “a very special fundraiser.” Memorial Day weekend marked our one year anniversary back in the U.S., our return to National Public Radio. I love NPR. I…

Postcard from Kansas

If you’re wondering where people go when they don’t update their blogs for a few days, it might be Kansas. It might be to visit old friends. To stop and sit on a sofa, holding a fussy baby and wonder “Is this what is meant by vacation?” It might be that time you spend, stopping…

Amsterdam in Three Days

AmsterdamClick above to view Photos At the last minute, Colin and I decided we couldn’t leave Europe without a trip to Amsterdam. This is the sort of trip that makes me wonder about all those OTHER places I haven’t seen yet: what IF? What if I am missing out on the place of my dreams?…

Home for the Holidays

When you go back home, it isn’t quite the same. I drove by 4245 Wyoming today. It was still brick and stucco and the porch that was all mine was still there. Yet it was like an amputated body part, lifeless and still, in the wet December rain. You cannot go back, I think. Even…