What’s your superpower? Mine? Hang on. I just asked the question—give me a second. It’s not breadmaking. I proudly baked two loaves and tried to gift the second to my neighbors, only to find both houses already had fresh loaves of their own. Like, straight-out-of-the-oven. It’s not pushups, or weeding, or practicing Spanish, unless “yoContinue reading “Wishin’ and Hopin’”
Author Archives: Jaclynn Loibl
Hairspray and Humanity
With a dusting of flour on the back of my left hand, I sink into the couch—much too late—to write a blog. Dave’s nearby, still in his collared button-down shirt, folding the clothes I’d left there hours ago. You see, we’ve just been out on the town: Taco Bell chalupas for dinner followed by aContinue reading “Hairspray and Humanity”
Swiping Towards Stardom
I’m just into the first interview in Judd Apatow’s book—it’s with Jerry Seinfeld. Apatow’s trying to extract the secret sauce of comedy, and I feel like a fly on the wall. I’m fascinated by the mechanics of humor, how comedians take something ordinary and make it unforgettable. Talking about watching a guy catch a bulletContinue reading “Swiping Towards Stardom”
“You’re Going to Hell”: From Fear to Tolerance
I share these stories not because I’m proud of them, but because I know I’m not the only one who was shaped this way—and maybe we can unshape it together.” I don’t know exactly how the world began. The Big Bang, stars forming, planets aligning—it’s the best I’ve got. I’m an atheist living in aContinue reading ““You’re Going to Hell”: From Fear to Tolerance”
Should I Stay or Should I Go?
Not to make my love for pressure washing jealous, but a new gentleman caller is on the scene. The Little Green Machine arrived via UPS, hand-delivered by a driver who offered a warm, “Y’all take care now,” despite me being the only one standing there. Like the trigger-pull on my power washer, the steam cleanerContinue reading “Should I Stay or Should I Go?”
When the Milkweed Whispers
That dang walk through the asters, milkweed, and black-eyed Susans at a butterfly garden in a well-shaded, river-hugging park got me. Minutes later, I was ordering 20 seed packets with the touch of my thumb—shipped from a nearby nursery. The bees, the hummingbirds, the large, flitting butterflies had me transfixed. Their gentle, floating ways wereContinue reading “When the Milkweed Whispers”
Outside the Box
In my 6×6-inch Rubbermaid Brilliant Series Tupperware container, once used to house sauces and leftovers, my five-and-three-quarters-year-old daughter Evelyn created a game, stored it in it, using 13 dice with each die having eight sides, and a deck of cards. “You can be 1, 2, 3, 4—wait, not 4—1, 2, 3, or 5. Yup, fiveContinue reading “Outside the Box”
The Patience of Play
I made ice cream. With the immersion blender, I ground up the pitted and peeled peaches that Dave had prepared. Then, using the mixer on speed ten, I whipped the heavy cream until it was as thick as a wet sponge. I folded in the peach purée, a bit of vanilla extract, agave syrup andContinue reading “The Patience of Play”
Dreaming Without Exit
I don’t write music reviews. But after listening to Josie Edwards’ song for the second time, vivid images flooded my mind. It felt like a battle pitchfork cry—dark and raw in its lyrics, yet yipping like a poetic coyote skipping through a field. Maybe I’ll write something. Maybe I’ll even message her on Instagram, seeContinue reading “Dreaming Without Exit”
Not Just For Evelyn
Children’s books should be prescribed alongside therapy and medication. I mean it. Every night, I ingest stories about friendship, hardship, joy, and redemption—tales of silly bears and resilient thingamajigs—and I’m convinced they’re rewiring something in me. When I’m quick to credit my rosy, sunshiney moods to hobbies, relationships, or a good night’s sleep, I forgetContinue reading “Not Just For Evelyn”
Going On 40 