I'm writing this post at my writing table, which for most of its life has been a kitchen or dining table and bears all the markings to prove it. I'm writing in one draft, so there are sure to be typos and incomplete thoughts. Under the table, a big baby of a dog, all hundred … Continue reading How to weather a storm.
Tag: friends
The living and the dead.
This may seem disjointed; that's simply the way things are. My friend Harriet, the Harriet who is very much alive, is a quilter. She sews the most beautiful quilts (and other things, too) and has the best sewing adventures to tell, stories I would share except that they are hers and not mine. I mention … Continue reading The living and the dead.
On birthdays, Facebook and #FirstSevenJobs
It's a conspiracy, you know, the whole birthday thing. A long, long time ago Egyptians celebrated the anniversary date marking when the Pharaoh became Pharaoh, transforming from him a man into a deity. Pharaoh was the only one who got a party, and the party wasn't on the day he was actually popped out of … Continue reading On birthdays, Facebook and #FirstSevenJobs
The year of magical running.
So, baby, are we doing this thing, or what? he said, rapping on my car window. It was 5:58 on Friday, September 30, 2005, two minutes ahead of our agreed start time of six o'clock. He was always early; I was always late. It was part of our familiar routine. On this particular day, though, … Continue reading The year of magical running.
Why not be you.
So, the highlight of my week was a Facebook, um, conversation with my sister. This is the same sister, my favorite sister, who for several years was on Facebook boycott but who decided, about a year ago, that she missed being connected to people she couldn't see everyday. Meaning people who do not live in … Continue reading Why not be you.
The rest of the story.
Here's how I drilled a hole in my thumb: When Bernard walked into our bedroom, I was in the middle of saying: farewell, blue shirt; thank you for bringing out the blue in my eyes. And Bernard said: what the hell are you doing? And I said: I told you already; I'm going to spend … Continue reading The rest of the story.
Susan.
Untitled, by Susan Austin, c. 1985Let me tell you about my friend Susan. Although, honestly, I should first tell you that my plan today was to share a bit about Bill and Joel (no, I didn't mean Billy Joel; don't be daft). I have that piece all written and ready for finishing touches, and it … Continue reading Susan.
527,040.
Here's what I know about time: It's going to keep moving forward, whether or not we move forward with it. Once upon a time, my daughter was small; now she is big - almost as tall as I am and able to say "thank you" on her own, without my prompting, when someone pays her … Continue reading 527,040.