Empty nest – what empty nest? Our nest has people. Some are not-quite mine, some (when they visit) are very much mine. Our nest is not empty. There is a dog here, and a man and a teenboy. And me. Not empty. But, it is not full, either. There’s an essay going around social…
Unapologetic Season. [Poem]
August, the Sunday of the summer months. Suspending the start of autumn, an air of distracted denial in these late summer days. Our activities hum similarly round in their tune. Bring in the fruits for winter’s cellar and holiday cheer. Relearn tying shoes and making lunch. End earlier to rise earlier Summer’s growth spurt in…
A Day Off… Aug. 25, 2017
Funny. Today’s horoscope said I have lots of focus and drive (in fact, almost too much), and feel compelled to use that flow to get a lot done for myself. Currently, my imagination is FULL of focus (on 15 different projects and tasks, and in my mind, I am doing them all at once, with…
Tongue Tithed.
Is there a word that just plain annoys you? My friend and I had a discussion the other day and they confessed (a bit too enthusiastically) that “moist”, “gleaming” and “awesome” are their peeve words. To each their own. Mine are the overuse and lack of respect from “guys”. “Hey, guys!” is used by everyone…
August 13, 2016.
Dump (last few wine bottles from garden project). Break the fast. Weird here without the dog. Weird without WiFi…but, whatever. Radio all day. Bag hanging clothes. Box last few breakables, pack odds and ends. Break down sofa. Rapid and merciless assessment of garage (not much packing, mostly organizing). Confirm start date of new job (Tuesday?)…
Idiots On the Way.
Yesterday, during the early part of my shift, a guest shared a strange thing that happened on her recent trip to the Vatican. Yes, the Vatican, in Rome, Italy. Where the Pope hang out. While there, another tourist attempted – and succeeded – to break the jaw off a famous and valuable dog statue in…
August 9, 2013. (Journal)
If Saturday is the last day of any week, then Sunday is the start. That said, this has been (is still) a rather nice week, in all the weeks of this year. A little travel, a little cooking, a little exploration (some unintentional, some very intended). One plot came to a close while ideas spring…
Independence Hymn. (My thoughts on singing today.)
You know my father stands up and sings. And his mother, Melba Shorthill Bradshaw Dawson, she stood and sang. Beautifully. And I bet my newest U.S. passport your grandparents did, too. Stand up men removed their hats (and still should) and sang. Singing our National Anthem is not about sounding good or “talent” or jazzy,…
To Tell the Truth. A conversation. June 12, 2014.
Acquaintance: “I had no idea you made art! I love your writing but I had no idea you make art, too!” Accepting these compliments blushing, I explain (briefly) how I used to act a bit, too, and that I’d once hoped acting would be my life’s work. She thought that was wonderful and asked if…
Humble Hush. June 12, 2015.
Before bed I ask – your pain ease, your breath normal, your rest restorative. – my child find peace in her heart while away. – tomorrow’s weather be kind. – more thunder charge the dog back over the fence. – peaceful moments for friends grieving missing loved ones. (A hard week for many.) – abundant…
June 6, 2016. Journal entry.
Winding down work. Most loose ends knotted. House on the market; the agent’s sign hangs tall at the bottom corner of the lawn. Mapped out my packing plan between now and moving day. Scheduling dinner dates, drink gatherings, letmeseeyouoncemore times. It will be weird not going to marching band rehearsals; weird not witnessing the steady…
June 1, 2013.
When I wrote this piece, I had returned to New York from my first visit to Virginia, less than one week home. Torn in two, yet mending in ways I could not then label nor identify. Today, four years on, we are a “we”; not distanced by separation nor divorce, space nor inconvenience, fear nor…
