Happiness. It's relative.
In my dream, I am driving our truck. My husband is driving something else and we are side by side on a two-lane road. We come to a stop. My lane goes forward and his goes to the left. I watch him drive away… Continue Reading “Ice Trucking”
Writers run on, say things in long ways, describe every petalPages are spent on saying what is delicious and sweetMetaphors and analogies and coy turns of phraseTheirs is a gift for immersion, tiny stitchingSentences elbow each other for roomSee me! See me! each word… Continue Reading “Small Words”
It’s so embarrassing to admit, my being otherwise so cool, but I don’t know how to do the Electric Slide. I know from having just googled Electric Slide, that Arthur Murray could teach me but that seems mortifying to me. Not that Arthur Murray… Continue Reading “I Wish I Was Plugged In”
My favorite toy as a child was paper. Looseleaf paper, in particular, because I could write on it during class and the teacher thought I was doing something she’d told us to do. There was the Mousevill Press and later the Bunny Gazette. My… Continue Reading “Paper”
Much of America’s history has been shoved in a closet in the very rear of the basement behind stacks of mildewed books and broken dining room chairs waiting to be fixed someday. We know the closet is down there. We walk past it all… Continue Reading “America’s Closet: The Road Trip It’s Time to Take”
Not everyone is looking at you or judging you or thinking that you are anything other than what you actually are. People have their own lives. They are not spending their time dwelling on your shortcomings. Or wondering why your tennis shoes are cheap… Continue Reading “Not Everyone is Looking: Advice to My Teenage Self”
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