I don’t know about you, but during much of 2018 I felt like I was swimming Upstream. Each day seemed to bring Just One Damned Thing after Another; other days seemed like A Walk in the Park.
On the personal side, my concussion in May led to the The Longest Nine Months of feeling like I lived in an Alternate Side, a side where writing and teaching and thinking were an Unlikely Pilgrimage. Continue reading
I want to follow her instructions. I want to blow her away with my flexibility and flair and fleetness of foot.
But she laughs gently, rolling her eyes in a sweet way. In a way that tells me I’m failing, but she thinks I’m pretty darn cute, trying to do what she does.
I try to explain to her – Look at my posture! Look at my pose and poise! But her reply is a tad condescending despite her touch of forgiveness. Continue reading
The older I get, the more days I want to my week.
Eight days a week would be a great start. I think I’ll call my extra day – WONDER DAY.
One day just to wonder. Continue reading
Once a year I allow myself the luxury of keeping completely in balance. The other 364 days of the year I falter at times: am I spending too much time reading instead of writing? Am I too shy, or do I share too much? Am I cooking the asparagus too long, or too short? Am I giving a prompt to my writing class that will make them dislike me, or thank me?
Einstein said, Continue reading
“I need to teach you something, Madre. Now!”
I notice the twinkle in 5-year-old Neville’s eyes and I figure he’s found a spider, or another grub, and wants to teach me how to hold it without squirming . . . . or screaming. Continue reading
