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...
(This is a guest post from Paul Merrill, part of the If Only in My Dreams: Big Question Series.) Christmas means different things to different people. After 22 years of marriage, Heather and I are finally understanding how much our families influenced how we enjoy holidays. How many presents are under the tree? Do...
At the post office, the hated post office, where lines greet me and awful racks of greeting cards Line walls, ignored. The post office and its Perfume of desperation. The place where scales and stamps sit in dusty corners Like aristocrats awaiting their bloody fate. The post office, doomed, because It is about PLACE...
I want things handmade. I want a life devoid of BPA-worries. I want the holidays decorated in popcorn strings and toes of knee-high socks filled with sticky penny candy and tiny oranges. I want to have the hot cocoa, but not the packaging the dried chocolate-flavored granules come in. I want to make the...
December is the month of dreams, of nostalgia, of memories, expectations, hopes and disappointments. We were all little children once… dreaming our dreams of light and mystery, wide awake under our covers. It doesn’t matter whether those covers were cotton or silk. We are still those children. Some of us still imagine the twinkling...
So, then we shout or drink and then shout. Because want to be heard. We are pilgrims in a wild frontier, uncertain of the path into the forest of tomorrow.
This heat has No name at all until You remind yourself He. Is. There. Exit the climate-controlled Iceblock Bedroom Only to hit The Wall. Day 11, A River of Stones
Out of the blue, I got a call/voice mail from T. Mallie the other day. It was one of those lovely long rambling messages in which she updated me on her job status and her life and her hairstyle and the general feelings of things on the Other Coast. Last time I laid eyes...
This is a guest post from Paul Merrill. Saturday. For those of us who work Monday through Friday, Saturday is a precious day. It’s the only day we can knock a few things off that everlasting to-do list. So a few weeks ago, my son asked me to spend a Saturday with him at...
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....
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...
Oh my! Finally my slippers and I are getting the recognition they deserve! In this season of scandalous awards programs, I am HONORED to have been given this truly wonderful Stylish Blogger Award. For those of you who are new, you can see that my incredible fashion sense — from head to slipper –...
Here’s a tandem response today: integrating #Reverb10′s Day 13 prompt on “Action,” asking “What’s your next step?” with my dovetailed thoughts to Tara’s question posed to us: “Why do you make?” (I am going to put aside for now the fact that when I nannied in 1989, the family used the word “make” as...
Moral: Don’t Write Drunk. Day 8, #reverb 10: The Beauty of Different (Thanks, Karen Walrond.) I live on the East Coast, in the glowing gutters of the GOLD COAST. I am not from here, however, and that makes me “different.” That’s right. I’m not from these parts. I’ve traveled and lived all over, but...
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