First time ever, my writing was eaten by the computer. All it took was a swipe of the hand over the track pad. Alas.
This is a sight I see regularly when I check on the plants. This image is very different than those I present on my business’ website. As a photographer, I find this image interesting. As a native plant grower, this is the kind of image that gets cut.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
A little time to sneak in some writing. Been patchy. The heat slows me down, and for good reason. Things take twice as long, standing in the heat with the sun baking my head.
I am glad to be my own boss. It's hot, I think, time to knock off. The weather is also my boss. Rain's coming tomorrow, I think, good day to plant. My mind, my hands, too slow in the heat. It doesn't get done.
That's it. Time to quit. Something else calls me. The life of a self-employed mother. See ya.
Yeah well, I asked myself these questions last night. I started writing on a nearly daily basis on January 20th of this year. I started with a thirty day challenge to get going and then kept going.
Then, late April happened. Then, fifteen days of May. An eight week mindfulness class (finished this week) with homework (that I enjoyed), plus a weekly martial arts class (that I love, as you know), plus, you know, life (which I also love deeply despite writing regularly about life's troubles).Read More
He is sovereign over himself. So, perhaps he will one day write his own stories. Now, I am careful with and respectful of (as I hope I always was, though he may tell me otherwise, and be right) of the representation of his life.Read More
"Have you ever thought of writing fiction?" Jared asks as I drove as fast as I could, which is usually about 1 to 3 miles per hour slower than the posted speed limit (Sorry, babe. Sorry, everyone who's ever been behind me).Read More
Over the years, Jared has been my champion. He's provided endless feedback. He's foxed typos, endless typos. Ha! Fixed endless typos that I don't catch ever after proofreading my own writing three times.
"Can you read my sh/t?" I ask him. "I know you're busy, but can you read my sh/t?"Read More