Author Archives: Jaclynn Loibl

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”

When I think about politics, I spin out — like a cartoon toy wound so tight that its string snaps and smoke shoots out of its ears. For all the things I hate about politics — the division between people I care about and the unresolved, long-standing disagreements — I still want to dip aContinue reading “Properly Uninformed”

Up there with people selling secondhand mirrors and accidentally catching their reflection in the shot are product reviews where the critique is actually just a fact. Take the review I saw when garden seed shopping that cost the Snail Vine seeds their five-star rating: “It grows slow.” The packet clearly states the expected growth rate,Continue reading “Going Bananas for Bananas”

Property lines destabilize me. I doubt that a hundred acres, or even a thousand, could protect me from the internal wobble I do — balancing on a cable stretched thin. It’s just something buried deep down, and once flicked, it’s like a tablecloth being yanked out from under fine china, shattering every fragile piece ontoContinue reading “Survey Says”

“I want a lemon,” Evelyn declared, seated at the kitchen island with a barely touched bowl of spaghetti in front of her. My mind flicked back to earlier, slicing an orange for fermenting kefir water. Knowing we didn’t have lemons, I instinctively reached for my phone to add it to our digital shopping list onContinue reading “In the Chaos”

I have to type fast—Dave just found Star Trek: Discovery for us to watch. One of my clients recommended it yesterday, and I’m intrigued. I’m a big fan of universal truths, humanism, and exploring how our motivations and values shape behavior. But tonight, I’m bowing out early. Before I go, here’s a little something forContinue reading “No Bones About it”

Previous The primitive campground is a flat, grassy oval, bordered by weathered railroad ties. Picnic tables dot the space, each sheltered by crescent-shaped windbreaks, their curved structures a half-hearted attempt to tame the elements. While the idea of a solitary night under the stars tugs at me, the growing scatter of tents being pitched byContinue reading “Meeting Kent (Book Part 28)”

I want you to start your own blog. I’d like to hear your gripes, groans, and successes. I’d be so invested! Think about it, okay? From the couch, I can turn off the lamp and switch on the overhead canned lights with a single tap on my phone. Such a smart, good house I have.Continue reading “The Will to Build”