Just drink the coffee.
Yesterday, it would have been about work and how my stove caught fire in the morning, how I threw handful after handful of flour on the flames and when it finally went out, I had this mess of burned and caked flour everywhere. I'd have told you how I couldn’t leave the kids with that … Continue reading If We Could Talk, Part 2
I would tell you I looked at two apartments today, and both left me feeling like Goldilocks: one was too big (in price and space—the ceilings were loft-height, glorious Old Chicago 12-footers. In winter, I fear the heat would never reach me or my children in our beds. We'd swelter in summer. The place felt … Continue reading If We Could Talk
Mes amis, it's been a hot minute. I haven't written here since the end of April, when I declared my need to leave the hive for honey—time to go collect pollen and bring it home for processing. I forgot I said that. Spring came for me. I spent Beltane in a hot tub with an … Continue reading I’ve Been To the World, and I’m Going Back Inside
Although I've proclaimed the gospel of mind-body connection (as above, so below—my mental state and my physical body are not islands in the same stream, they're the water and the flow), I needed The Universe to teach me how it feels with a mallet, so I threw out my back a few years ago while … Continue reading Listening To My Body
Tonight I'm reminded that in the face of unprecedented world events, regular life carries on. People are going to break their legs and give birth. We're still going to fall in love and die from all the same circumstances that assailed us before there was a COVID-19 assassin on the global prowl. I wish these … Continue reading Don’t Give Me More Than I Can Hold
I almost started this post with "Good morning," but I caught myself—it's one in the afternoon right now. We're only on day two or so of the officially requested shutdown and reordering of our lives—social distancing—and my concept of time and normalcy blurred a little bit on me. I think that's all of us right … Continue reading We Could Be Heroes
My fairy garden made it through most of winter standing, but I found it today in ruins. If I'd sat outside a few days ago, the ruined garden town might have felt like a heavy-handed metaphor. Today, it's just a thing. The destruction is likely the handiwork of my six-year-old and the neighbor boy, which … Continue reading 02.22.2020
Speaking in metaphor only, I got my ass kicked three days ago and am still slow-motion falling toward the floor. And I can't do that right now. I have deadlines I worked for and open doors and windows all around me. My kids are mostly teens, all brilliant and strong and sensitive and growing, and … Continue reading On a Plain
Lemon balm doesn't grow well indoors. I didn't know that until I moved one into my dining room. She's an unplanned houseplant, a relic from last year's garden I brought inside (because at the end of the growing season, I found her flourishing in the center of the leafy geodome my un-staked tomato plants incidentally … Continue reading Lemon Balm in Winter
I'm not kicking 2020's ass. I'm not going to conquer this new year. I'm almost 45 years old, so the odds are stacked against me that 2020 will contain loss and death. I might get diagnosed with something I don't want, I could lose a parent (or a grand—by grace, I have one left), and … Continue reading In Closing
