Somewhere in Middle America
We drove into the night, and every five to ten miles, we’d see a light in the distance. A farmhouse, no doubt. People live there, no doubt. Where do they get water? Groceries? Where do they go to school?
Shoes
The day she truly implanted herself in my mind as the worst choir teacher ever was the day I watched the home video of one of our concerts. I was in seventh grade.
A Great Good Place
It’s a strange, rewarding experience to be surprised in your own home. There are small things: stores that never close, kindness from absolute strangers, the harsh omnipotence of air conditioning, incredibly friendly, sometimes overbearing customer service.
My Neighbor’s Wind Chimes
How many wind chimes would be considered reasonable? One, maybe. If it’s nice sounding (silent) and pretty to look at. Two are means for legal action. Guess how many she has. Go ahead.
Consider the Lilies
You think you are the glory of creation, but you are still within creation. For dust you are and all that. You think, I should see the redwoods soon. I should go to Tuvalu before it’s underwater.
Lessons in Monstrosity
I know it’s illegal, but do I care enough to prevent it when I see it? Does he want us to stop him? Will saying something be more trouble than it’s worth?
Obituary for Big Blue
Affectionately known as “Big Blue” and “The Behemoth” to those who knew her best, the Savana was celebrated by nearly all who came into contact with her.
The Weight of Six Pounds
It’s the kind of book that takes up half of your book shelf and that you could use as a makeshift booster seat to prop a toddler up to the grownup’s table.
How to Wait for a Train
But letting go of all those demands emptied me out, and the process of refilling with the right things—that’s what’s taking so much time.
On The National
Here’s the thing about the critics: They’re right. The National groans. Sometimes Berninger doesn’t quite sing the lyrics. And the lyrics rarely make sense.
