Category: What’s Called Home

In which I discuss places around this place we call home, in various stages of undress.

Perennial Work

Our house had so many little projects after we moved in. Not the least of those was the gardens. The previous owner had some kind of psychotic idea of planting… Which is to say, she is exactly like me. So I really love to putter in the flower beds and took on the notion that…

You’re Not Sick. Go to School.

Or, A Tribute to My Bossy Mom My sibs and I basically had to be projectile puking or have an arm falling off in order to stay home from school when we were kids. Mom’s philosophy on life? Get on with it. Impatient and ready-to-go NOW, Mom was at the heel, pumping us with her…

The Day, Stripped Down

If you ask this question, I answer: Wake up, Kiss cheeks, Move sheets up to pillows Move aside blinds. (Daylight must have its way). Eat food. Water from a tap. Frozen bagels scorched In that metal box. Spread plates around the Craigslist table. Brush crumbs from cheeks. Get dressed. Move the hampers to move The…

On Being Underscheduled

Ahhh. Today was one of those most perfect days. I was so happy because my zen-wonderful brother-in-law/sister-in-law and their kids were visiting. They have such a nice way of arriving with their own unplanned, unhurried, not-worried manner. They are — or seem to be — just quite happy to hang out at our house and…

More Stuff Than I Could Ever Need

I told Colin last night that if I ever, actually, cracked, the cause would be: STUFF. People — namely me and the those concerned with me — spend a ridiculous amount of time fussing over THINGS. I’ll define the limitations of what I am referring to herewith: Stuff: Anything not attached to your naked body,…

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…

On Home and Horizons

At least three times since I have been back to visit my parents, I have thought: “It’s nice to be home.” Then I remembered that I haven’t lived here since 20 years, half my life. Home comes when I feel my heart Drop its weight in relief At the sight of flat land running Forever…

I’m Not Writing from the Heart

I just stopped by this blog by one of my favorite tweeps, @ArtemisRetreats, and I realized I feel like a fake. That’s right, I am a big, neverending puff of hot air. My blog is supposed to be this place where I can just write from the center of me, where I can change and…

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…

Stress in the Rearview Mirror

This picture reminded me instantly of our summer vacation in Maine and of floating on my back, gazing at the blue sky and hearing only the sound of my own breath. But then, it also reminded me of this new feeling I own… a tight grip on my heart that comes from the constant stress…

A Poem to Those Who Love Me

Make the day pause, A top all done now the spinning: But not yet toppled. If (for just one day) I am the morning sun, Then You are the luscious hills I peek over; The refracting air dew –In winter, air’s mirror– And that single ecstatic Songbird rambling Her grocery list. And if, At noontime,…