Category Archives: Writings

“Just not front and center” — that was Dave’s only request about his seat for the upcoming Addams Family show. We’d already been charmed at the little Perry Players Theatre when we saw Hairspray: singing, dancing, gorgeous sets, costumes — I was delighted. Since moving to Georgia, I’d been missing the culture I needed. AndContinue reading “Community Theatre Obsesser”

I play mental tricks in my head in Spanish. It’s fun. Like wandering a corn maze, or stepping into one of those wind tunnels, grabbing for hundred-dollar bills. (I almost said one-dollar bills, but that would be far less fun.) Do you remember QVC? Their countdowns, parading foxy shawls, bathrobes, and foot soaks across theContinue reading “Class Dismissed”

Plants are fun. “Did you see this guy’s new growth?” I ask, holding up an asparagus-like stalk from a plant a friend gifted me. “No, I didn’t.” I’m not a mind reader, but Dave’s attention to my plants is close to zero—about the same as the attention I give to his fish. “What, one’s dead?”Continue reading “There is a Season”

Part of my work as a counselor, but also in life is knowing the line between being swept up in my own emotions or pulled into others’. In the end, they’re all mine. Still, the sheer force of other people’s fear, animosity, or despair can knock me over—dizzying me like a KO’d boxer. But I’mContinue reading “Fully Oxygenating”

Watching Angels in the Outfield tonight sent my nostalgia meter soaring—the stadiums, the cars, the crocheted quilts and tweed rocking chairs of the 90’s. But this was Evelyn’s first time watching, so I got a fresh take too: “Are they up?” “How many innings are left?” “Why aren’t there any angels?” If only she’d beenContinue reading “Conveyor Belt Pile-Up”

At bedtime, using the Google speaker in her bedroom, Evelyn broadcasts into the house. From the living room, I hear the chime, then the British AI voice announces: “It’s from Evelyn’s bedroom speaker.” A moment later, Evelyn’s own voice follows: “Is it Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, or Saturday?” Dave answers back with theContinue reading “Finding My Muse”

Anyone posting political opinions or memes is getting a 30-day snooze on Facebook. I’m over it. The reactionary scroll-read-react routine doesn’t work for me anymore. So I’m stamping out little fires, one by one. I’m reclaiming my peace, guarding it like I’m posted up in my own fire tower. It’s not okay to be soContinue reading “Being a Big, Big Girl”

Social media is a joke — a wildfire of chaos that toxifies people’s hearts and minds. It’s too much. And yet it’s digested, unfiltered, like air. Some people can differentiate between fact and flamboyance, but others are swimming in the deep end without the necessary skills or a flotation device. More and more I’m clearContinue reading “Releasing With Swift Kicks”

Our mail lady putters down the country road, both windows rolled down, cigarette dangling from her fingers, voice booming over Bluetooth. She’s always talking to someone. I can’t tell if she lights up multiple cigarettes along the route or if it’s just her routine when she hits our stretch of road. In the past month,Continue reading “Crashing Into the Sun”