Well, well, well, what do we have here? Another post, another day, another open microphone for me. The idea of a space to share my thoughts and daily life fluctuates wildly—sometimes I’m yippee skippy, ready to document every nook and cranny of my day, and other times I’m the quintessential kid just off the busContinue reading “Love at First Bite”
Author Archives: Jaclynn Loibl
Flashback and Forth
Yesterday, as I scrolled through old pictures—salivating over the memory of hot cocoa in knee-deep snow, with Mount Rainier close enough to high-five—I tripped onto a photo of myself. The curtains were drawn. I was posing, deliberately amplifying my feminine assets, surrounded by a mix of people I’d met dealing poker at the casino. VaryingContinue reading “Flashback and Forth”
Developing Memories
I’m a pent-up lion pacing in captivity, waiting for a finger to slip through the iron bars so I can snap it off. Thankfully, my zookeepers—aka me—close the attraction, and I go pick up my laptop. I don’t want to direct my stir-crazy, home-all-day energy at my dear old husband and daughter, so I directContinue reading “Developing Memories”
Scents and Sensibility
At the end of the brown-carpeted hallway in my childhood home sat a cedar chest. On top were books like Why Was I Adopted? and Adoption Is for Always. Getting to the chest meant walking past wooden-framed school photos of my brother and me, each step revealing my growing smile—the half-inch gap between my frontContinue reading “Scents and Sensibility”
The Art of Undoing
Before sharing this post, I waited until I could talk to my mom, Joanne. We both did a writing exercise with the same prompts, and I loved the experience. It sparked something meaningful between us, and now I feel ready to share my reflection: What keeps me up at night.. Is you. I think ofContinue reading “The Art of Undoing”
The Yeasty Boys
I really like being right. I know the cost — it means someone else is wrong. Which, for someone who likes being right, isn’t such a bad outcome. While watching Wild Robot before bed, Dave asked Evelyn if she knew what the robot was pulling out of the fox’s face. When she didn’t, he said,Continue reading “The Yeasty Boys”
The Root Awakening
With a rake and a wheelbarrow—that’s how I best remember my Papa. So whenever I’m smoothing out the earth’s surface after wrestling the root of all roots, I think of him and the meditative hours he spent shaping landscapes to his liking. Whether it was a rototilled garden that fed his nightly vinegar and oilContinue reading “The Root Awakening”
It’s the Climb
I’ve lost over twenty pounds in two months. The thought crosses my mind daily, and each time it does, my chest fills with helium-like pride as I soak in the accomplishment. The weight I carried wasn’t just physical—it was emotional too. Aches in my knees, a persistent tingle in my foot, and a general dissatisfactionContinue reading “It’s the Climb”
When the Trailer is Rocking
It’s my niece Brooklynn’s birthday today, and Dave’s calendar reminder beat me to the punch—something I still need to do myself. Later, we ate dinner and ended up lounging like an old married couple in our two faux-leather chairs, listening to Evelyn’s squeals as she narrated every detail about her toys to her oldest friend,Continue reading “When the Trailer is Rocking”
Zen and Trucks
One day, long ago, I dreamed of the life I’m living now. Walking around the block in my white open-toed Birkenstocks, my smartwatch tracking every step on a warm winter day in the South, I realized the philosopher’s words coming through my speaker were right. I did dream of this—a life filled with love andContinue reading “Zen and Trucks”
Going On 40 