My budding mid-life crisis is apparently that I want to do all the things. • write and illustrate children’s books • run a cute farm, like one where there’s a corn maze and people come to pick out pumpkins • be a travel writer/photographer • move to a small town and run a photography business and unite the town with spirit-boosting photographs of their lives • become a letterpress printer • freelance design part time, have…
I was sick the entire first half of 2017. It was a tour de force of ailments — sinus infections, ear infections, pink eye, strep throat — cycling through my body and returning at their leisure, like microbial timeshare owners trying to make their individual marriages work. I remember two low moments in particular in that span of months: 1. Sitting in the Walgreens well clinic exam room, my throat swollen painfully shut, unable to…
In 2006, I took this photo and named it “Nature always wins.” Here’s how that truck looks now. Nature is still winning.
My grandmother died Oct. 10. She’d spent the last few arduous months in and out of the hospital and back to the nursing home, then back to the hospital, battling rounds of infections and pain that kept her from resting peacefully enough to heal. She had fallen and hurt her shoulder and spine a couple of months ago and it just snowballed from there. She’d been in declining health for a couple of years, her…
I’m standing at it now. It’s the kind that you can move up and down depending on your mood. I got it so I can start the long, hard climb out of fat-asseddom. (Again.) I sit all the time. Sedentary life sucks. We all know it. The least I can do is force myself to stand some while I’m working. Right? Yeah.
I cut my calluses slice through them with clippers, knives, scissors sometimes down to the meat past the dead unfeeling part to the part that bleeds It bubbles right up like crude, pressurized It’s surprising every time when it hurts when it bleeds and won’t stop I wrap tissue after tissue paper towels if that’s all I’ve got and pull them away to gauge the flow Once it’s down to a red dot I dig…
I’m getting married. You hear me? Married. MARRIED! I’m not sure I ever really believed I’d do such a thing. Once upon a time I was in high school when marriage was entirely abstract and I had dreams about Husbands and Children but in reality I knew I had to go to college and do some other shit first so it was a nice thought but nothing too pressing. And then some boys told me…
“I was good at blogging and then sucked at blogging before you were even born!” This is an actual insult that I am preparing to spit at some youngstuff should I ever need to. Seriously, people, when did this get so hard? I started two other posts tonight but then hit walls with both where I just realized, “Nope! I don’t have the gumption necessary to hit publish on either topic!” And it’s not like…
It’s hard to think about without wincing but sometimes my mind wanders and I think of the stupid things I’ve done to get men to love me. How I’ve shushed that voice inside me that protested. How I’ve talked my way around it. How I knew going in that it was a bad idea but how I convinced myself that no matter what at least I’d get a good story out of it. It’s always…
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