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We were careful this year. The condo is a new expense and the beach house needs a new roof. Our goals were modest. We would walk, pay our bills, do our best to avoid covid, and stay in touch with family and friends. We covered over a thousand miles, mostly on the beach. I ran…
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Years ago I taught a short story by Michael Cunningham in which a teenager runs through a sliding glass door during a party. (This was before building codes required tempered glass in such doors—a change triggered by a real life incident of a child bleeding out from cuts sustained by running through such a door.)…
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We’re in Portland just now, and it’s in the 20s outside. I ran three miles here yesterday and walked a couple more, up and down NW Portland streets. I planned to walk three miles this morning, but maybe not in this cold. We tested negative again yesterday. This means I have not been sick (with…
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I literally plan to write about beach combing every single day I am on the beach and then I am distracted. I have superstitions (if I touch a stone, I should take it or stack it.) and good luck finding agates and a front yard nearly paved with my finds. We also attended an event…
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I know, I know, some of us love that movie and some hate it. I’m not going to write about the film. The 20-year anniversary documentary is playing, but either way, you are safe to read on. Truth, fact, history. Lies, fiction, invention. Racism. Yes, I went down a rabbit hole of investigation and research.
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Sometimes I lie to myself. For example, I promised myself a short run yesterday morning. I held out a single-mile run like a carrot. When I began running north, I was running straight into a 40mph wind and it was cold. The tide was going out and I repeated, “Just one mile.” I didn’t need…
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My baking began on Monday with four loaves of cranberry bread and a chevré cheesecake (that last only because the goat cheese needed to be used and I wanted to strain Greek yogurt for whey to use in pie crusts. On Tuesday, I roasted Delicata squash for Gary’s “pumpkin” pie. (I have made pies with…
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An internet friend announced on her blog that she has decided not to send holiday cards this year. Her habit was to send nearly 100 cards. Receiving about 20 in return last year has forced her to confront what seems a lack of interest. I am wondering about the same thing. This is the season…
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Thanksgiving, holiday memories, oystercatchers, Pilgrims, and my Thankful story about a small child. Sea lions, and giving thanks.
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The tiny closet of our condo is already stuffed with clothing I rarely wear. I need to purge. This is the story of our times. We focus on gathering until we run out of room and have to wonder: Why do I need this?
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IMPERFECT PATIENCE 