OK, 2019, let's go. Hoppin' John and greens (and a spicy bloody Mary)? Check. New calendars up? Check. Christmas tree down? Not quite; but today (January 5th) is the last day of Christmas, so I've got a few more hours. BONUS? A surprise New Year's Day visit from a pal who brought her daughter to … Continue reading Start on the right note.
He thought his third wife was "the one," and for a while she was. But, to be fair, so were wives one and two, as would be four (and probably five; I wouldn't know, we lost touch). "The one" ultimately had nothing to do with the wives and everything to do with him. But wife … Continue reading Farewell, Bob the elf.
When last we were together in this sort of month-in-review (month-in-preview), listicle way, it was the end of May. Hydrangeas were in bloom, tomatoes were still just tiny yellow flowers (if that), I was preparing for some big changes in my work-work, I had just re-booted Larksome Goods as a stationery and paper goods start-up, … Continue reading A few things: September 2018
An actual family dinner conversation: SON: [to MOM] "So, why'd you move all that stuff and mess up the big room?" MOM: "I need more space for my art and sewing and things. Maybe I'll have people over, teach a class; who knows? I might even teach you to sew, so you can sew a … Continue reading A few things: November 2017
"I know you said you don't want any of this, but I think you'll actually want one thing," he said, dropping some folded papers on the kitchen table. It was a letter, five pages in long-hand, from my mother to my father, a few months before they married. When we had gathered the belongings from my mother's garage years ago, the letter must have slipped from a box into an adjacent pile.
We rose before dawn, in the dead of winter, when the only light was the moon's reflection on the Nebraska snow. We lived in a small, four-room guesthouse - a generous term, as the "guesthouse" was a two-story garage, the top half converted into living quarters: two bedrooms, each barely big enough for a bed, … Continue reading Sorry, the number you’ve dialed has been disconnected.
I crave the mountains. Right up until the minute I set foot on a beach.
Now here we are at summer's sun-stand, the long solstice (in the northern hemisphere, anyway) of June, fruit of a cycle born six months ago at the onset of winter. It's still an anything-can-happen era with a why-the-hell-not vibe. It's the time to ask, again: If not now, then when?