This old house.

If we were to start anew, we might do it all differently, bolstered by knowing. We might be less like first-time lovers or new puppies, fumbling between tentative and exuberant. We might first take stock in ourselves, be realistic about our imprinting. We might bow first, out of respect, thinking less about how each could … Continue reading This old house.

Warning. (AKA “the year I accidentally bought a purple bra for Christmas”)

This story will be less risqué than you might fear, or hope: I bought myself, sort of by accident, a purple lace bra for Christmas. We were out looking for stocking stuffers and standard Santa fare, my daughter and I, trying to get it all done in one single open-air-mall expedition because I quite hate … Continue reading Warning. (AKA “the year I accidentally bought a purple bra for Christmas”)

On lemons, lessons, love.

I don't want to jinx things or tempt fate, but it's looking like I will make it through 2015 and into a new year. Which means it's about the time that I normally compile and share my 50 Happy Things list, the time-limited, year-in-review free-write that I started a couple of years ago to give … Continue reading On lemons, lessons, love.

The beauty of an ordinary life.

Perhaps the real purpose of keeping a journal is for the assurance, at some later date, that one is still oneself - voice, hand, and eye as distinct as fingerprints. The years spanned are a blur, but each minute is frozen in crystalline precision. Only in time do the entries divulge what they always were: … Continue reading The beauty of an ordinary life.