A few notes on writing, cooking, working, reading, from the long, hot month of May.
Category Archives: Reading and writing
A few things: March 2018
The drought of March. In like a lion, out like a lamb. Oh, March, you unpredictable transition month. If February is the pause between inhale and exhale, March might be the incubator for an early adolescent growth spurt – fits and starts, a mix of rain, snow (for some), sun, and the first dusting of…
A few things: February 2018
For the shortest month of the year, February carried more than its weight. It was, at some points, unbearably heavy. But for those of us who stubbornly refuse to give up hope, February brought more than its fair share of that, too, mostly in the form of young promise and new energy. What teenagers lack…
A few things: December 2017
Looking back over the past 12 months, the way December beckons that kind of review, one encounter stands out as perhaps the best thing to happen to me in this terrible, wonderful year. I was having lunch with a philanthropist friend, trying (badly) to make a case for funding the nonprofit agency where I’ve worked…
A few things: November 2017
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…
A few notes: October 2017
A little more than a year ago, I started a new job, taking the helm of a well-established but fragile nonprofit agency dedicated to ending family violence. Someday I’m going to write about the experience; but today isn’t that day. Today I have something else in mind, keeping with the theme of sifting and sorting…
Books, art, and the dog days of summer.
The letter, were there to be one (which there will not), might continue this way: And now it is finally October. The end of sandals, the start of boots. Irrespective of temperature (because, in Memphis one can’t be particular about such things), October is the beginning of stews and pot-pies, of flower beds going to…
The shape of time.
I crave the mountains. Right up until the minute I set foot on a beach.
