It suddenly occurred to me — when I was in the basement waiting to see if the washer would flood/leak — that I am no longer a Night Writer. I used to stay up and journal, scribble, angst-ify long after the sun had gone and the house had gone quiet. In KC, I’d sit on…
Category: People are people
My philosophies of people and their people-ness.
Anxious to Return
by
My blog has stopped being what it used to be … out of necessity. For sometime now I’ve been keeping my fingers hunched over the keys, holding them back from all of the things I want to say. I am being watched, and no that is not paranoia seeping in with old age-ish-ness. It’s an…
Why is “Local” so Weird?
by
My kids reallyreally like bananas and I am reallyreally glad about that. As some of you know, we are greeny-greensters, so we grow our own veggie garden, make compost, and buy organic and local. Well, sometimes. If we started to apply the “locally-grown” condition to our food (250-mile radius), what would be have to give…
The Unfinished Basement is Not Worth Examining
by
So I’m just emptying the dishwasher this morning and number one son runs out the the kitchen and says: “Mom! I just saw this guy on TV! He says he can finish your basement!” “Oh yeah?” My mind is spinning. I start to do the math. Local news is on. Commercial jingles ring. TiVo has…
I’m Not Mowing The Lawn…
by
… and the reason I’m not is not at all simple. Despite the fact that I drive the heck out of our zippy five-speed manual transmission Mazda, and the fact that I drive our minivan like I need to get the kids to the raceway poddy–NOW! — despite both of THOSE facts, I feel complete…
