I operate at a high bit rate—but the fact that hummingbirds operate at a thousand speeds faster means that when I watch them, I relax. Their energy—back and forth, face and fight, in and out for sips, and gone again—becomes something I can hitch my wagon to. I ride along with them, then unhitch, slamContinue reading “Somatic Marker Hypothesis”
Author Archives: Jaclynn Loibl
Dreaming In Color
Every time I walk by the new-to-me treadmill, I swear I hear its syrupy judgments. “All that downtime, staying barefoot? Can’t put on some tennis shoes? Looks like someone’s avoiding me.” It sits there, looming—watching me when I breeze into the office, when I sit down to schedule clients, or when I casually pass byContinue reading “Dreaming In Color”
Digging Up Bones
The magician never reveals his tricks, but I sure wish he would—because then I’d know how Dave and I managed the impossible. Okay, mostly Dave. Still, somehow we dismantled a dinosaur-sized—and dinosaur-aged—treadmill, freeing it from the shackles of Kim’s space off her garage. It’s just a Monday, but knocking out a Herculean feat before noonContinue reading “Digging Up Bones”
Hasta Mañana
I’m pooped. Don’t mind me if I meet you here tomorrow? Thanks. Love, Jaclynn PS This post’s picture is during the game Hero Kids and Evelyn is playing a dragon, figuring out her next move.
To Be or Not To Be
Parenting in the age of Minecraft means it was only a matter of time before the request to play came knocking. And here we are—the thud-thud-thud of footsteps, the doorbell, and the inevitable, “When will you know?” ringing in my ears. While Dave and I played a board game with friends, Evelyn played Minecraft withContinue reading “To Be or Not To Be”
Sorry to the Detective in Dexter
“Can we rent?” I asked Dave after yet another house expense popped up like a prairie dog in a field. This time it was air filters. Earlier, it was a handshake on a $3,500 deal with the owner of Skinner Tree Services to take out three trees and limb up another. Once Tony—the tree assessor—shotContinue reading “Sorry to the Detective in Dexter”
Deflated Bagel Maker
More and more, I want to quit. Quit trying, quit caring, quit doing. I want permission to pull all my irons out of the fire—forever. I get so tangled in things that don’t matter. I hate that I do. It’s the principle of it, I say. I take on these heroic endeavors, hand over myContinue reading “Deflated Bagel Maker”
The Unrelenting: A Poem
Some days are quitting days.The hits come relentlessly, like 3-inch hail balls on a rebranded Jaguar.I wanted to give up, up, up. But the times I stayed in the ring paid off.The blows I took, the nights I lay KO’ed on the mat—they left a set point.Something to outlast.A bar that keeps inching higher,and somehow,Continue reading “The Unrelenting: A Poem”
Smells Like Teen Septic
I’m not remembering what I wanted to talk to you about. It was something good. It had action, details, and personality. And now? I sit here like a bump on a log as the clock ticks time away. Well—one thing: I talked to a gentleman, Tony, from the University of Georgia Extension Office. He’s aContinue reading “Smells Like Teen Septic”
Here For It All
I want to tennis-ball-spike vulnerability away from me. Its tentacles are massaging my neck all creepy-like, and no matter where I go—to social media, to take Bunny’s cloth igloo hideaway out of the dryer, to tuck in Evelyn—it follows. It’s not quite tripping me yet, but its pitter-pattering little feet are never more than sixContinue reading “Here For It All”
Going On 40 