Category Archives: Writings

As Evelyn works on her ham, cheese, and ketchup sandwich, and the sun makes its final peek through the low-hanging branches of the pines, the porch frog, ever hiding, gives his evening call. It’s a quack-like sound that takes center stage, leaving the always-chattering mockingbirds and cardinals to take a backseat. The gnats have myContinue reading “A Day of Quiet Wins”

Hanging over like a side-swept umbrella is a mimosa tree, its blooms as soft and feathery as something you’d want to nuzzle your entire face into. The silky softness of the bloom, with its hundreds of delicate hairs, also smells like the sweetest flower in the botanical garden. Two of them, somewhere between 3’ andContinue reading “Securing My Insecurities”

Do you remember the “Wake Up, America” guy? He was that comedian with a heavy Texas drawl who’d start his rants with, “You know what really chaps my hide?” and “You know what really boils my biscuits?” I think it was on country music stations back in the day. Anyway, that old phrase popped intoContinue reading “Virtual Reality BFFs”

If you’d told me at 16 that I’d be sitting cross-legged on my butt, picking rabbit turds out of a litter box, I’d have told you to kick rocks. But, oh, how those Miracle-Gro-like turds will give my yard’s greens a robust boost when the time is right. Dang those mannequin legs—I can’t find themContinue reading “A Calm Shuffle”

Now that I’ve washed one couch cushion and it didn’t burst into flames, I’m moving on to the next. Delicate cycle, cold water, a teeny bit of detergent, and hang dry—and voila, the butt ring is gone! My regret over the off-white couch is slowly fading, but now that I see the stark contrast betweenContinue reading “Midge’s Mid-Life Crisis”

Reflecting on my sessions today, I feel full. The good kind. Like a salad loaded with cucumbers, carrots, and robust, dark leafy greens—nourished, not stuffed. Using the corner of my cellphone, I smashed two ticks I found on Archie’s hindquarters. That makes five since Maria casually plucked one off him on Sunday. Now that IContinue reading “Bugs and Breakthroughs”

On a mundane Tuesday—one where my right eye’s stye is as heavy as a punching bag and nothing notable pings above dull—a storm blows in. Not unlike those foreboding minutes when Dorothy darts from scene to scene, the sky hazes over, the air whips, and there’s a buzz of excitement that flirts with fear. AContinue reading “Time Well Spent”

I’m challenging my desire for more. The default pull toward accumulation feels like an invisible foot pressing the gas—and yet, it seems impossible to shake. I want to crave less. Not as punishment, but as peace. But also: why do kids love being wrapped up like a burrito? I remember the giggle fits I’d getContinue reading “Or Are We Dancers?”

I’m falling apart a bit. A few seams undone—slowly, but unmistakably—unraveling. I feel too exposed. Too much of the wrong thing. Too not what you want. Too abrasive, like low-grit sandpaper—the kind used for the toughest, messiest jobs. A little neglectful, even, in ways I can’t quite name. I watched a video once. More thanContinue reading “Unraveling Raviolis”