Tag Archives: writing

A few things: April 2018

Let’s open with a confession: While I’ve sent countless notes, cards, postcards, etc., there are at least as many notes I should have written but didn’t. And I regret every one I didn’t send. Every note I waited too long to write (and send), not realizing that it’s never too late. Every note I wrote…

Babies, tarnish and dust.

The part of this that is a story, at the beginning, is mostly true and very short – hardly even a story, it’s so short. But it’s true nonetheless, in the important ways, and amended appropriately because it isn’t mine. A number of years ago a dear friend was hosting Thanksgiving dinner. More specifically, a…

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…

What I know.

Once, a long time ago, for a short time, I was a fly fisherwoman. Fly fishing, like so many other things, was a short-lived pursuit that began as a lark, took hold for a bit, and then petered out, partly through changed circumstance, partly through competition from other activities, and mostly because I thought of…

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:…