Happiness. It's relative.
I wish I’d come up with the scratch to buy the land adjacent to our cabin on Lake Superior, so someone wasn’t able to build an enormous, earth-scarring monstrosity next door. I say ‘next door’ hesitantly as it implies neighborliness, as in, let’s go… Continue Reading “Where’s the Money When you Need It?”
This is exactly the first thing that came to mind when I opened my eyes this morning. Gray is a color. It’s not the memory of a color. Gray is the color of doves and steel. Gray is a long life’s memory. I must… Continue Reading “What I Know to be True: Gray is a Color”
My son gave me his cat. But it was more of a desperation thing than a considered gift. There’s a story attached to the giving or loaning or ‘please, can you take Herc for a while’ but the details aren’t important. The gist of… Continue Reading “The Perfect Gift can be Years in the Making”
I go downstairs and let the dogs out. I watch Durant take a giant leap off the back porch and run to the back fence. Tempest picks her way down the stairs as if she’s wearing heels and a pencil skirt. I make a… Continue Reading “Back Porch Meditation with Coffee and Dogs”
My name is a married name and not even the current marriage’s married name. My name harkens from a marriage that ended decades ago. Never mind that my name is a borrowed name, long overdue, what would I like it put on after I’m… Continue Reading “Naming Rights in the By and By”
There’s laughing at funny things and there’s laughing at irony. I found this picture yesterday while, yes, cleaning my office for the ten thousandth day. This is why it takes so much time, the irony factor. In the picture, I am drinking a beer… Continue Reading “Irony, Laughing, and Coiled Angst at a U.P. Cabin”
There’s nothing that’s keeping you from showing up at a No Kings demonstration tomorrow. You could be a hundred years old and if you can somehow get to a demo, the people there will create a seat for you. They’ll pile up their jackets… Continue Reading “Wave to Me Down the Line: No Kings”
I suppose saying that I’m really good at mashing potatoes is kind of lame. It seems a skimpy skill compared to playing Chopin or changing the oil in one’s car, which nobody does any more so who cares? Still, I can mash potatoes within… Continue Reading “Potato Mashing is so Pedestrian”
“She’s brilliant but crazy.” Which was meant as an insult, but I took it as high praise. Always our choice – how we hear things and what we decide to make true. ___________________ Photo by João Pedro Freitas on Unsplash
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