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“I’m not being facetious or anything, but I think I’ve never said this before: for a dyed-in-the-wool feminist, you know a lot about traditional ‘women’s work’.” Gary had just asked me how a damask tablecloth should be washed and so I told him. (The key is pressing it after washing with a very hot iron…
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RATTLE is a poetry journal that emails poetry each morning, including a weekly response to a current event. Today, I received a form poem that made me sit up and feel. What follows is the mother’s explanation of where her words were birthed and a link to the poem.
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I assumed that a year was precisely 52 weeks, but had never done the math. That is odd for a lot of reasons, mostly because I was always good at arithmetic and algebra and geometry etc. I worked figures in my head back when I was running regularly in my 40s and 50s. Anyway, I…
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Responsibility or do I mean guilt? How I suffer for my mistakes. Regret. The I-shoulds or merely owning-up? I second guess myself a lot. I question my own motives and spend more time doubting myself than feeling confident I have done the right thing. I mean to be fair. I hope to be kind. Always.…
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It’s been many years since I took a class from Ursula K. Le Guin and in one of them she talked about the Chilean poet Gabriela Mistral. She was incensed at how little work of hers was available in English. After all, Mistral was a Nobel laureate, and her work was important. Le Guin had…
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We’ve been busy hustling back and forth, walking our 25 miles a week (and me running a few of those), working on our second home, and admiring everything we see.
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Starting with a Joni Mitchell lyric always feels like a good idea, whether the garden holds a sea lion on the beach (it does) or a rose. We are stardust We are golden And we’ve got to get ourselves Back to the garden —Joni Mitchell, “Woodstock”
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An Australian sheep farmer was unable to attend his beloved aunt’s funeral because of covid. He managed to get his message through: He lured them into that shape with grain scattered on the ground. Sending love to all the people I know. And to the people I do not know. And to Ben Jackson’s sheep…
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One of our tenants believes in the “good old days.” He is young. He thinks the fifties and sixties and seventies were times of idyllic freedom. I look at his long hair and think: You’d have been beaten half to death living around here in the 60s; you’d have been jailed for what you smoke.…
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Today is my high school reunion, the 50th delayed to year 51, and it is also my elder son’s 41st birthday. I will be baking a vegan, gluten-free, refined sugar-free cake later today. Our family is coming. They’ve had good reason to stay safe, isolated, and healthy. So that is the best reason for staying…
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