Do I want to write about how grateful I am for safe drinking water, cool air and hot food? (Very.) Do I want to write about but there for the grace of God go I?
What would you bring if you had to evacuate? Would it fit in one yellow crate? I think you would be surprised to discover that it would.
I'm feeling a little rusty. It has been a long slog of a month, and quite a while since I've found myself in my most favorite of places: in front of my computer ready to write with coffee by my side (Cuban, my favorite) while my daughter hangs with Curious George cartoons. Nothing like a disruption to… Continue reading Whatever makes your heart sing
When your husband, the man who has zero design sense, starts suggesting fancy bins to put ice and drinks into, you know you have found yourself squarely in the Pinterest-generation.
Right now my daughter is 3 1/2. She still says "Lello" (yellow), yesterday asked for a "lollyplop" (aww!!) and would prefer being naked to anything else. I have a hunch this won't last forever.
The three-year-old who wants a ganilla (granola) bar, and as she eats it, occasionally walks over to silently spit the almonds into my hand. The now-cold coffee, abandoned after chasing around the three-year-old who is spraying water into the air with glee. The mail, the coupons, the unread newspaper. The unwashed clothes. The dogs whose nails… Continue reading In praise of the ordinary