August is here and I'm thinking of you as always. Summer 2022 has a very 1970's vibe as I've returned to the activities that brought me joy as a kid: writing scary stories, banging away on my guitar and all things Star Wars. Yup, nostalgia is in right now. How go things where you are? Down here, so far, there have been over 40 100-degree days. Yeow! Definitely weather a thick-and-curly-haired girl from Lynden is just not used to. Sister Lily is full of mischief at 14 and taken to crunching up every discarded cicada exoskeleton she can find in the backyard. I remember you used to chew on the newly emerged ones that were trying to figure out how to fly. Oh, and a bunny rabbit ate my Jack Pine seedling that I'd set out on the patio to soak up some sun. My meager attempt at reforestation, but I will try again to grow a tree from seed. At least I took a couple snapshots of the baby pine and its bright green needles. However, we do have a peanut plant flourishing in one of the flower pots thanks to a forgetful rodent. Peanut blossoms look like yellow sweet peas. We'll see how bountiful Farmer Squirrel's crop turns out to be. Nature is, more than ever, my refuge since the news amps up my anxiety (i.e.: the planet's on fire, state legislators want to be my OB/GYN and polio is back.) But you, my beloved rambunctious pup, are a constant companion as I move through my days. Happy crazy runnin' along that endless stretch of sea and sand, little buddy.
08/12/2022
07/24/2022
07/17/2022
07/04/2022
05/30/2022
Occupational Hazards
compliance implied
an exclamation points north
methodology
debate
copy
paste
a specialist in process
implementation
manage the mayhem
revision as decision
candidates come cheap
My supervisor said we sometimes don't get a choice in what we do, and I thought: Really? We don't? Says who? Just like uncle Joe used to say: There's always an escape hatch. Are you gonna crawl through it, or not even bother to get away? Well, right after she made that comment, I decided to haul my ass right on out of that job that I only took because I didn't have to transfer buses twice just to get there like I did when I worked at The Filet & Ale.
**note to self**
I can choose the next adventure, even if my hair smells like fryer grease at the end of the night.
04/24/2022
The Big Kerplop
A blessing in the skies looks different to each of us. This morning as I looked up in the 6:45 a.m. heavens, scattered with puffed and wispy salmon-tinted clouds, I saw my beloved schnauzers Jethro and Bruno scamper about on a biscuit-shaped cumulus congestus that rolled past my house. That's when it occurred to me, I'm here to observe, lend a hand when I can to a fellow traveler, and clean up after myself. Simple; certainly not sexy, and harder a task than one would think. And so what if your superpower is the ability to never fit in? To never get out of your mouth words that describe how you really feel; what you see all around you; the messages you hear when someone engages you in "casual conversation." Have a nice day! is loaded with incredibly high expectations, and the ability to maintain oneself in an upright position becomes Challenge #1 on a daily basis. You think you know a person, but how would your life change if you could literally get inside their head?
01/15/2022
01/09/2022
An Interesting Pair
“Oh, here come those darling little babies. Doesn’t their mother have them dressed in the most adorable frocks? I wonder where they’re off to in such a hurry?” Two matronly women pushed matching perambulators with vigor, each wearing their cleaned and pressed Sunday best. The ladies with their frilly charges took up the entire breadth of the sidewalk, while worshippers fresh out of church stepped into the street to avoid a collision.
“Very pretty, indeed. But, well, I see clearly...um, that is to say; the girls are as similar to their parents as night is to day, if you take my meaning."
“Beg your pardon, Louise. I forget that you are only recently moved to our humble burgh. Everyone in these parts is familiar with the Caine family and their singular situation.”
"I only know they live on the outskirts of town and keep to themselves," Louise replied as she watched the well-starched nannies maneuver their baby buggies with great agility against a surge of townsfolk.
Well, an interesting pair. Artists.” Phyllis paused, waiting for that designation, and all that it implied, to work its way into Louise’s brain. Phyllis huffed when she received nary a snort or a tsk-tsk from her companion, so she continued. "In any event, you’ve probably not heard?
“Heard what, Phyllis?”
“Not here. Let us find a place to sit and enjoy the lovely afternoon.” The women strolled up to a bench at the entrance to the arboretum. Families with picnic hampers scurried to secure a prime piece of lawn beneath ancient oak and hawthorn. Phyllis shooed away two boys parked on the bench who were fighting over a balsa wood glider.
“Go take that elsewhere, lads." As the boys scuttled off toward the park's reflecting pool, Louise's gaze lingered on the ginger-haired boys.
"What is it, Louise? Phyllis nodded her head toward the empty bench.
"Oh, nothing really. I thought the boys looked familiar, is all. Familiar from where I can't quite say." As the pair sat down, Phyllis looked off into the distance and sighed.
"The familiar prevents us from living in a world of limitless possibilities." Phyllis reached into her pocketbook and pulled out a silver flask inlaid with a twining vine motif. She took the smallest of sips from it before offering the flask to Louise. "It helps refresh one's senses after being cooped up in a stuffy old church all morning." Louise raised an eyebrow at the proffered refreshment, but accepted it all the same. "Now, listen up," Phyllis said as Louise handed back the flask. "I have a story to tell."
12/25/2021
The Limitations of Expertise
Who's story am I allowed to tell? Can I hand over free rein to my imagination so it can wander unchecked as it dictates the rules of an existence lived outside of my skin? The safe play is to write what I know; access to opportunities and the freedom to consider more than one path in life. Does my background translate into an echo chamber, or an offensive display of privilege? Either way, not much of a page turner and closer to a head-scratcher.
What’s it like to be human? I think I can speak to that experience with some level of expertise, but what’ll it take for me to offer a more inclusive narrative of who we are as a species? Here today and destined to become a memory, if we’re lucky. Stardust, at the very least.
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