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Many people are finding it emotionally challenging to watch the news these days. They do not feel connected to events, to politics, to the ebb and flow of our national debate. I understand that. Just last week I was thinking over my personal experiences with accidental shootings leading to lost use of legs, to murders,…
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I have begun rereading Patrick O’Brian’s Jack Aubrey/Stephen Maturin novel series for the third time, this time aloud. I found the jargon and exposition early in Master and Commander hard going aloud, but we have moved on from there to familiarity with some details and absolute acceptance of the rest. My husband laughs at every…
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The process is frightening, this writing process. Unlike the performance, the meal, the quilt (I am knitting just now) there is no clear completion. We can only rarely say with any lasting conviction that we are finished writing. We merely choose to stop at some point. We live with our writing for such a long…
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Giant cricket? Super grasshopper? It was on the beach this morning! When I asked Gary to put his size 12 foot in the frame for scale, it sidled right over and checked his shoe out. When Gary stepped away, it hopped after him. Yikes! What? At least we recognized the thing below as a spider.
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Does it seem to anyone else that we have been going backwards? When hundreds of terrified people flee violence, rape, and murder in their own country, it seems to me that the solution is to help make their country safer, not to turn our own country into a place where children are torn from their…
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The order. “Years and years and years ago” when Mom was still alive, I did what my mother had done and decided on solid black, spindleback wood chairs for her old dining table she’d given me. I wanted four chairs, and bought cheap, unfinished chairs and stained and lacquered them matt black. They are currently…
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There is a novel by Nella Larson called Passing, which includes racial passing by a character. There are other sorts of passing. Passing by, passing judgement, passing the mashed potatoes. A running dog passing another is called a go-by and it’s a good thing. Passing over, we die. Years pass too, time passes. But not…
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Yesterday, though it is October and cooling, the sun was bright overhead and we got in our two beach walks. A huge broken V of birds flew south so fast we were not able to identify the species. Not Canada geese, who fly slower and in a tidier skein and honk. Gary suggested cormorants. The…
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Ursula K. Le Guin once talked about embracing that word, “crone” as an honorific. For most, it is pejorative, inherently agist and sexist, but Ursula argued for a different take. The crone has experience and perspective, intelligence and awareness. The crone is old because she has lived long and prospered. She has earned respect, even…
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I am reading historical fiction just now. The E key on my keyboard has worn down to a splotch—it’s happened before. I had trouble getting to sleep from dwelling on memories of attack. I am waiting for the light so that I can have my walk. I am trying not to make things worse on…
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IMPERFECT PATIENCE 