Category Archives: Writings

I dug up a four-inch high sassafras plant from the edge of our yard. Anyone with the app Seek can basically be a botanist, entomologist, and plant detective all in one. It’s handy! I’ve identified at least a hundred plants and bugs during my wanderings around the yard and on hikes. One maple-looking sapling turnedContinue reading “Our Eight-Legged Roomie”

I’m reaching a deeper sense of peace. It’s like slipping farther beneath the surface of water—colder, darker, a chill wrapping around you. There’s a thrill to it, but it’s also unsettling. Unsettling because I start judging myself for having the experience at all: You’re faking it. You’re putting on a show. And just like that,Continue reading “Concrete Calm”

“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”