short musings and podcast transcripts
When my youngest sister was five, and I was thirteen, I taught her to speak a couple of French phrases one Fall afternoon. I distinctly remember it because it was such a cozy scene, she and I cuddled in her little bed and hearing her say, “Ma crayon est rouge,” in the sweetest little-kid accent.…
it marches when I wish it would bend and loop and stop even in just one room while the rest marches on without me collect it in a pocket spend it or save wind it around dream for a day while the clock quietly slows and a single day stretches and my heart finds a…
I passed balloons tied to a lamppost while walking my dog on the eve of my son’s 18th birthday. Someone in the neighborhood had recently had a baby, and the sight of those “It’s a Boy!” swaying balloons immediately brought me back to when we brought Brian home from the hospital. The lead up to…