Category: People are people

My philosophies of people and their people-ness.

Talking to Strangers

Talking to strangers

Meeting people can be tough. This great landscape of unknown, a gap of nothingness between us to fill with “small talk.” This is a glass is half empty approach to understanding people. It’s the “I don’t know you at all so this is gonna take work” mentality. But every person is the same. It’s easy…

No Matter How Small: Lunch with Tom

Tom Stroik Mother Fucker

If it so happens that Tom Stroik is in Kansas City (which he may not be), then I have on my list to hunt him down and — at the very least– have lunch with him, if not whiskey and ribs. Yeah, teachers change our lives. We all remember that one “Dead Poets’ Society” prof…

Every Time I Think I’m Home

every time I think I'm home

If I left somewhat suddenly (after 11 years) or you were surprised, then I think maybe you weren’t paying attention. Every time I think I’m home, something changes my mind. Maybe it’s the porch or its the lack of the porch. Maybe it’s the wide open spaces, or the bats and the trees. There were…

That’s Not Me

Don't type Angry - that's not me

In reading the pile of reports the school sent over regarding my youngest child, I thought: that’s not me. On every occasion in parenting, I am reminding how very few people I encounter — whether as friends or acquaintances — who really understand me. They do exist, and they are ridiculously loyal. But the by…

The baby in the fire

rohingya baby fire

All weekend I keep thinking about the Rohingya baby in the fire. (And so this is Christmas. And what have you done?) The New York Times correspondant Jeffrey Gettleman reported on the violence and likely genocide of the Rohingya Muslims in Myanmar. In one account he reported a Rohingya mother, Rajuma, whose baby was ripped…

An Ode to Sally, on her 50th

Howlips & Cabezas With Dogs

Who is Sally thinking about today? Her daughters. Her friends. Faith. Her mom. Dan, of course. On any given Friday, Sally jumps to the beat of love. Sally moves to move you, drives to inspire you. A Monday morning dawns and she Breaks out of the blocks, running down The day’s, the week’s, the season’s…

I can only be myself

Existential Angst bubble

Adoptive kids have a special layer of wonder in their lives. Why am I in this family? How did this happen to me? Who am I really? What might have been? This special layer of wonder undoubtedly will shape them and their life direction, as all mental efforts do. But as I worry this thread a…

Mizzle, Again, Without You

I experienced mizzle, again, tonight. This time, without you. Our first mizzle draped the English town of Dover at night. Friends’ laughs echoed in our wake. A mizzle clouded all the air space, As we strolled under repeating Streetlights from B&B to seafood joint. We arrived damp, the standard condition of Englishness. Our second mizzle–…

10 Things I Love About You

Susan's Birdhouse

Grey hair in streaks, falling straight down. Friendship, translucent and strong as fishing line Books, stacks of texts, leaning. Paper birds, emerging from the wet, hempy mash Disagreement, and dissent. Chickens in the back 40. Raised boxes and their bees. Voice, a cool shaded pond. Bob. Tomorrow, empty canvas. — for Susan, Day 12, Poetry Month

An Ode to Frida, on a Monday

Frida

Across the Gulf from La Casa Azul, this Monday Late morning I am thinking of you, Frida. My sister’s just called and We Facetimed, her lying flat on her Back on her bed, phone in midair Me slurping lukewarm coffee in my Second cousin-in-law’s second home and the chatter Echoes off textured walls until we…

My Kind of America

Got to hit the road and try to find My kind of America. It’s out there Somewhere: not too crowded, A farmer’s market weekly At the time of day convenient for Both the workers and the farmers. People reading books. Bike lanes and Sidewalks and garden boxes Where brown and white Mix happily as a…

Understanding Love, Regret and Hope

Bill Murray Broken Flowers

Today is the birthday of my former roommate and college friend. I have no delusions that she will read this post, and anyway, it isn’t about her. It’s about the experience I had with her, and what it taught me about myself. “Trisha” and I were roommates when I lived in Kansas City. I had…

Our Famous Monkey Bread Recipe

monkey bread recipe

Ok, enough people have now asked for our family’s monkey bread recipe that I thought it was time to just post it here for all the world to enjoy. (Let’s be real: I keep misplacing my own copy of it, which itself is covered in butter and getting increasingly difficult to read). NOTE: This is FULL…

It’s good to hug a person

Ten years ago I lived on Delaware Road in London. Colin had gotten himself half-addicted to internet poker (mostly because he understood the algorithms) and I, in an attempt to connect with him in on his online poker island, suggested writing a couple’s poker blog. It was adorable… called “Poker Sweet Home: Married to the Flop”. It…

The Hard Way

Dog in a Sunbeam

We’ve got two lives: one we’re given and the other one we make, And the world won’t stop, and actions speak louder Listen to your heart, and your heart might say Everything we got, we got the hard way.  –“The Hard Way” Mary Chapin Carpenter Chapin’s song “The Hard Way” was released on the album “Come…