Just a snapshot of today’s work.Read More
I had a premonition that the Marty’s Silver Dollar beer mug would be broken. It was. Just a couple days later. Today, broken. My son’s favorite glass, from one of my grandparents’ kitchens. Busted.
My son has moved on, it seems. I’m melancholy.
Long nights, short days.
Yesterday. My word. Yesterday was a day. After it was nearly all over, Jared and I drove out to pick up Beren, and I asked, “Was it just me? Or, was today crap?”
“Well,” he answered. “About seventy percent of the things we tried turned out badly.”
That’s a good batting average, but a crap day.
Quickie, shortie. That’s how I refer to… writing a short blog post. Like this one.
I am a cubicle worker. Maybe less than a cubicle worker. I have about, shoot, ask my husband, he does all the measuring especially once we get into the square and cubic measurements, but he’s not home… so, I got about this…Read More
As the drizzle picked up, so did my pace. My basket was filled with a meal’s worth of chickweed, field garlic, and a bit of cutleaf coneflower from down field. I came around the bend and up the hill. Jared and Beren stood before a nearly empty clothesline. As the drizzle picked up, so did their pace.Read More
9:06 p.m. We’re on our way back from the grocery store. As we drive down the rainy road, I notice a mother in a window illuminated by florescent light. She loads her dryer. Her hair is tousled. She our neighbor down the way. Don’t really know them too well.
A partly dried lump of laundry waits in my dryer. When I arrive at home, I will run downstairs and turn the dryer back on. I will haul the groceries in on multiple trips through the never-ending mist and rain.Read More
Just sat down to write, after a day of potting up plants and doing the books and the inventory and the laundry. I listen for sounds on our quiet road. I hear our truck 'round the bend bringing Jared and Beren home. Bye.