My god what is that burning orb!
In the course of driving to Ontario for Christmas, we encountered a lake effect snow squall. Neither Colin nor I are strangers to snowstorms of any size or might. We are both veteran snow drivers. However, this was our first encounter with a true, pop-up blizzard. Along Interstate 81, we were warned “Lake Effect Snow…
Let’s keep the Earth clean. Do you love the Earth? I do. PEOPLE! Don’t litter. — day 22, by Tati
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
I need to get l**d. I need another cup of coffee. I need to walk the dog. Are my hands in the right place? it really bothers me when I am watching an NFL game and the guys are listening to the National Anthem and have their hands over their clavicle. Hmmm. I don’t think…
Is it worth being sentimental over one tree? The last time I mentioned to friends that we might have to cut down our two huge Norway maples, one FB friend replied “good riddance. They are invasive species to New England anyway.” I sometimes think that our attachments to trees or cars or other “stuff” isn’t…
At the beginning of my parenting experience, I said “no” often. The noise and the mess was a lot to handle. Not to mention the plain issue of just keeping track of where all the little live bodies were in space and time. And what they were planning to put in their mouth at that…
Here’s a post today from a writer and poet that I love, Kelly Letky, also known as “Mrs. Mediocrity” and “The Blue Muse.” This poem is called “Decadence.” (click to read it) Kelly posts her poetry with original photography. This enhances the poetry, solidifying the imagery in her writing. But it also shows the direct…
Trying to come up with a single small kindness to write about today for Fiona’s blogsplash has been one of the more difficult writing assignments I have been given in a while. Some of you know me, and so know the story of our family. If you don’t, I’ll just say that ours is not…
“You are doing it all wrong.” I go through distinct phases of my week/day/life when I can clearly hear myself telling this to myself. It might not matter exactly what I am doing — anything really from cleaning the house to baking a chicken — but the message is clear: you are doing it wrong.…
The summer the kids and Colin and I went to Maine, we were not right in the head. That is to say, life was a little askew for all of us. It was good for us that August to pile in the van and get out of dodge. We drove a long way… up to…
You know all that flag-waving, “true-American” rhetoric we hear from the Rush Limbaugh conservatives? I was thinking about that today, as I was pondering getting our organic garden ready to spring planting. It’s Ok. I know I am preaching to the choir generally. But a good argument is worth saying, just in case it’s seeps…
Have you ever been puttering along a normal sort of way, and then suddenly, without warning, found yourself in a big wet, messy heap? Once when I lived in London, I drank a bit too much at the after-hours while working at the pub. I was walking back home around 2 a.m. and one minute…
The orchid and its splitting leaves Sat drying out on the Tank of our toilet for a Year, uncomplaining about The noise, and the sheetrock dust, but, Most of all, The proximity to the Water it desired but could not Taste. Me and the orchid eyed Each other every damn day. Well, that is, what…
August retreats. It hands us back the year. Summer isn’t truth, but it is (as Harris Telemacher recites) “What we wish were true.” So many of us Shove out this Season of perspiration, lazily Forgetting how it Slows us Beguiles us Presses us to hold still Find the windy spaces With a friend In the…
… we don’t know Anything about each other. Curving leaves Hidden roots One long dead Stem. How much Attention Does she need? Day 25, A River of Stones
