If I go to bed Immediately and fall asleep Right Away, I will get seven hours of sleep. Seven. Not eight. But seven is better than six, and certainly better than five, which is what I’ve gotten for the last two nights. I’m going for it. I told you my muse has gone missing….
Read moreis a repeat of this. And if you’re going to have a repeat of this, then you Really Don’t want the water to leak beyond the concrete pad underneath the washer and dryer and out to the (newly replaced) carpet of the playroom floor. But if you do indeed have a repeat of this— or […]
Read moreI would mail the rest of my Christmas letters (yes, Christmas Letters) if only I had some stamps. !
Read moreThe pictures are getting old. Don’t you think, O Reader, O Disappointed Visitor of this blog, that the pictures are getting old? And yet. And yet I have Nothing For You. Nothing. It’s not like I’ve tried. I’ve hardly been on the internet in days and days and days. Tonight, for the first time in […]
Read moreWho Lately Lives In China but Is Home in America For Just a Little While. We joined with other pilgrims on the journey home. They came from London town, and how it warmed the heart to hear our native tongue again! An onion is an onion still no matter what you call it. A man’s […]
Read moreI think we ought to read only the kinds of book that wound and stab us….We need the books that affect us like a disaster, that grieve us deeply, like the death of someone we loved more than ourselves, like being banished into forests far from everyone, like a suicide. A book must be the […]
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I learned to like coffee cold and black when I was about three years old, or maybe two. That’s when I was old enough to reach up and take hold of my mother’s coffee mug– the mug she had left on the windowsill or the counter or the piano, preoccupied with Other Things while her […]
Read moreWhat is it, do you suppose? I like thinking about this idea and art in all of its varying manifestations. Dance is art, and music; poetry is art, and other forms of writing, too. But most of us, I think, when confronted with the notion of “art,” think of its visual form: that which might […]
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