Here’s what keeps happening… I keep getting self-conscious and don’t want to say anything so I stay quiet. Then something like a week passes and I think: what happened to that time? Oh my goodness, if I am just quiet, if I don’t say anything, what meaning does it all have?! How can I remember…
Category: Family
Fine Tooth Comb
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Blue plastic comb Rosemary Spray Bother the louse And its tedium. Glass-half full? Long sessions Together on a Sun-warmed stoop Hand in her hair. Day 17, A River of Stones
Dirty Face
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Eating means makingMess to smallPeopleAnd to some of themSticky marshmallowBecomingHand spider webIs the reason. Day 7, A River of Stones
Mom Kept a Few Things
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Penguin refrigerator, frog stove. Fisher Price merry go round With cranky plastic carnie– How they afforded it All cash then. No plastic. Day 2, July, A River of Stones.
Riding Through Flyover
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We are passing through some flyover states today… Glad that we are not flying over but taking that slower time to look at the scenery, at what the shape of other places looks like. We came around a bend near Lake Erie and all at once the land flattened out into farms… The horizon was…
More Bon-Bons Please.
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Fine, Matt. This is posted because you told me to. I am about to tell you something really gross that’s going to make you puke, so get the bucket. I don’t have to work at all if I don’t want to. (Go ahead. Heave away. I’ll wait while you blow your nose.) Back? Feeling better?…
The Lawn Mower Heard Round the World
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My husband is mowing the lawn right now… Shhhh. Can you hear that? No that isn’t (just) the sound of our gas-guzzling 42″ Ariens Super-Deluxe Tractor Mower/Cheese Slicer. That’s the thundering palpitation of his heart. Damn, some things a woman just CANNOT get in the way of, no matter how environmental-y she is. A man and the…
You’re Not Sick. Go to School.
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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
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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
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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
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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,…
Seven Years Since Kansas City
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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…
Squinting at the Past
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So I’ve been home in the town where I grew up for a few days to visit my ailing Dad. I am always relieved to get here, and feel it viscerally. But at the same time, my visits are filled with the anxiety of missing someone, letting someone down, not seeing enough of who and…
On Home and Horizons
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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, Swim
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I swam the full length, freestyle, for the first time last night. I came up at the deep end to the cheers of Latoya, Paul, and Dan — my support team — at Flood Pool. On the way home, I heard Faith Middleton interviewing one of my favorite environmentalist writers, Bill McKibben. Only he wasn’t…
