Dreaming Again
I feel sort of like Cinderella using every available moment to frantically clean up my life so that I might finally get what I want, except I have no animals, no magic, and no shoes made of glass (thank god).
Writing Space
Perhaps the trick isn’t finding the perfect place, the perfect pen, the perfect aesthetic, the correct combination of elbow patches, pipe smoke, and whiskey. Perhaps the trick is simply to not have a trick.
A Grandmotherly Half-Truth
It frustrates me to hear people complain that they feel like they’re choosing between two evils or that they’ll just stay home on Election Day or that they’ll pack up and move to Canada if things don’t go their way.
Making a Bridesmaid Dress: A Tragic Romance in Three Parts
ENTER: EVERYTHING THAT IS WRONG WITH THE WORLD AND ME. Some might call the cut and color of her clothes bold and loud, while others might use the word “garish.”
The Big Clean
I drag around furniture, scramble on top of kitchen counters. I dust, I sweep, I wipe. I also bleach and mop, neaten, vacuum, air, fluff, and polish.
Tiny White Moments
Reaching through the grated door, I run a fingertip along the tiny white foreleg of a tiny white lamb curled on the straw inside. He slid into the world less than a week ago beside his glossy black sister.
E-mails from David in the Week before Pentecost
I could almost hear his eyes glazing over. The remove in his voice suggested that the ocean between us was a puddle compared to the expanse between our brains.
How to Swing Like a Child as an Adult
Let the sky be wide open and full of good possibilities. Wonder why the sky is blue. Wonder how the earth suspends in space. Wonder how you came to live under this beautiful blue sky in this small corner of the universe.
The Hermione to My Ron
I don’t like planning anything. Plans may have good intentions, but they always end up a little too strict. Like Professor McGonagall.
