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Well, now, this is a weak post—you may have noticed by now I’m aiming at weekly posts on Fridays. This post is short because I put up a “New Year” post yesterday. If you choose to click below, you’ll find a local story. The brief story…
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It’s New Years Day, the day we make promises to ourselves about how to have a good or better year. But I’m not making promises, only suggestions for myself. Here’s the short version: dress crazier watch what I eat vacation even if it’s just for the day walk long and run short distances, no hurry…
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The truth is, I used to hit. (I’ve stopped—when? Decades ago now.) For example, I’d slap my husband’s arm in what was meant to be a playful way. Not hard. Well, a slap hard enough to leave a red mark on my son. Briefly. That was bad. This is my confession. The screaming was bad.…
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I nearly didn’t post this week at all. But let me share a personal tradition that I miss while I’m sitting here on the sofa, the television paused. I had a writing assignment I shared but the most important thing I used to do this time of year, when I was teaching, was show episode…
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This week I got started painting our rental and completed my quilt top and three submissions. I was researching something the other morning that I don’t remember, but Gary and I got to talking during our walk about the people we still knew from high school after more than fifty years. I thought I would…
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I saw a reel of this and am shamelessly reposting Tim Minchin’s 2013 address to UWA “Nine Life Lessons” from a site that has already done this: Nine Life Lessons However, I have had large groups of people listening to what I say for quite a few years now, and it’s given me an inflated…
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I was still teaching when I reposted an old blog: WHY YOU DON’T WANT TO BE A TEACHER. That post arrived on my old Blogger site in 2011, then here in 2019. Thousands of people read the original posting about why you don’t want my former job. At least two college programs assigned that post…
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As I began writing this on Wednesday, I was reading Helen Whybrow’s memoir, The Salt Stones, which focuses on her family, her ninety-some Icelandic sheep, and how as a pastoralist she lives within the rhythm of her animals, the trees and grasses, blueberries and shrubs, the soil microbes and those in our gut, and all…
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“This is what makes the myth such a great lie!” Gary says. Shoulda-coulda-woulda. It’s always someone’s fault, not ours. We tried to watch the right/left overview of the our political week on The New Hour on PBS. We’d previously vowed not to watch it anymore, but today I backslid, found it on my computer a…
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