By It was February 2012. I was about to launch the serialization of my book, The Oat Project. I got a call from family saying my mom was in the hospital. She had beaten cancer twice since 2008 but had struggled in the year before with “maintenance” chemo. She was having
Gigantic, Google, Macrosomatognosia, and Me
This post has no neat and tidy ending. It does have a soundtrack, though. Go here to listen to the musical version of these words. It’s 11:38pm on “G” day for the A to Z April Blogging Challenge. I was determined to catch up and post today but got busy.
My Mother’s Words to Me, Through Me
The last week or two, a sort of time warp has wrapped every moment in as intense a grief and dark a depression as just after my mother and sister-in-law died a year and two months ago. It’s as though some parts of my mind and body have moved through
Thanksgiving, Family, and Light
I’ve tried several times over the last few weeks to tell you of how life is right now. Anniversaries that no one else sees pass daily: the day my mom told me which dress to wear at her funeral, the day she gave away her jewelry, her last batch of
Miyazaki and Yoga
Today, Hayao Miyazaki announced his retirement. Creator of my favorite movie–Howl’s Moving Castle–and many more well-loved cinematic marvels, we fans mourned his exit…perhaps all hoping he will break out with some unforeseen brilliance for us someday? From Howl’s Moving Castle, I have learned and internalized so much about love and
How Today is Like Homemade Butter
Today feels like butter. Well, like making butter…deep, emotional, existential conversations bubbling up and coalescing from what seemed like milk-plain, catch-up chats. I’ve been getting raw milk from the amazing folks at Larga Vista Ranch for a while now, and though it is for my children, usually I end up
Dress Like You’re at the Beach
Right now, this minute, I’m sitting at my home-away-from-home coffee shop, in a tank top I got from a friend. This beautiful, blue, perfect-for-Blue-Moon-Day top has…well (am I really going to admit this in public?), has what we gals call a “shelf bra.” Meaning, I am in public, PUBLIC, without
