It’s a beautiful morning
Your browser does not support the video tag I’m working on a couple of posts (by which I mean I’m thinking about a couple of things). But in the meanwhile…
Many Cups to Drink From
This is kind of weird. I don’t remember starting this post or choosing this picture or what the title meant–“Many Cups to Drink From” but I must have done it in the past week. It was here in my drafts and I feel compelled to continue it in some way. Perhaps we’ll look at…
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Veteran’s Day
Veteran’s Day elicits a lot of mixed emotional responses from the Veterans I know. It’s one of those areas where I don’t have the life experience to have a genuinely informed opinion, and being a person who speaks with authority on things I don’t understand is something I work to avoid (because I am naturally prone to get…
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Permeability
The sadness nearly got me this week. That’s a lie. It did get me and it shook me. It still has me. None of it is officially my own. Some of the people I love and work closely with, people who make my life more beautiful and bearable, are suffering. People I have lost love…
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Why I care
This weekend I was asked, “Why do you care? Why do you care whether someone spends the weekend wallowing in their barracks room or eats dinner or sleeps or feels like shit? Why do you care?” It wasn’t a jerk question. It was real talk. And my answer was real–that I care about people who…
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Oh, I’m doing this…kind of
It’s National Novel Writing Month. If you recall, I failed terribly at it last year. I was trying to write a novel in which my protagonist, a woman in her thirties, has a few months to say goodbye to her dying father. I spent the first ten thousand words avoiding bringing the father into the…
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Power of Words Conference
I spent the weekend at the TLA Network’s Power of Words Conference at Pendle Hill Retreat Center outside of Philadelphia. I was so completely drowning in work and life leading up to it, I didn’t have time to look at the conference schedule or think about what I hoped to get out of the conference.…
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September eleventh
Twelve years ago, I was a stay at home mom and a part time college student. I was out painting on the back porch with my toddler, living the isolated life of the American mother. My husband called and told me to turn on the television. Soon after, I did the only thing I could…
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Our Sons and Their Mothers
A few weeks ago a friend of mine (one of the few beautiful people that still mail things) sent me a photograph clipped from the newspaper. It was of a six year old boy in Syria carrying a rifle nearly as tall as himself. The boy looks quite cheerful, actually, walking with great confidence in…
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