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I am equal parts verbal and visual. As a writer, I write to discover what I think and what I want to release. My authority is my truth and that seems enough. I write to exist and I exist to write. As I journal and blog, I practice self-compassion, learn self-trust, and have written away much of my anxieties and reconnected with my intuition. I am now connected to a small worldwide community thanks to my writing and have been published with pride.
Before I began to craft my blog in 2011, I’d like to tell you I was an avid follower of many other fabulous bloggers. But I wasn’t. I happened into this in a lurching sideways manner. Over these past couple years though, I’ve read and followed a fair number of them. The best of which…
From those that don’t blog, I get this bewildered look when I tell them I write a blog. A what? What do you do exactly? Why? How do you make money doing that? All great questions I certainly had as well before I started to write a blog. Ever notice how the vantage point changes…
Today is my second Blogaversary ! I’ve known this would warrant a mention…in a post…with streamers and prophetic words. But on my first attempt last week, I came up with a lotta nada. Hot air but no balloons. I had outlined what I thought I should say. But it wasn’t real. Creativity shrivels in the…
The only time Mark and I have ever “fought” was when Baby Eamon burned his hand on our 1950’s Odin Beautyrange. It was a super cool stove with folding enameled covers over the burners and so not insulated. And the baby, not quite walking yet, put his hand on it to stabilize himself. And he…
Like my mother before me, I’m a collector of resources. Although my magazine collection is donated now, I still have a hidden collection. Bookmarks on the computer. I’ve been collecting them for some time now. They’re harmless enough. Press save and they get stored. But when you open up that folder, they spill out. Their…
So many people ask, “Is she a good baby?” I look at them questioningly. They clarify, ”Does she sleep through the night or cry all the time, that sort of thing.” And this is what I say. She is easy-going. Sometimes she has issues but she is always good. I don’t believe there can be…
The Sequel to My Brown Thumb, Woman Vs. Plant was published elsewhere first. And edited for this rebroad. My actual garden remains ignored while I’m tied to a baby. When last we heard from our horticulturally challenged heroine, she had bravely begun a garden revamp and, although thwarted by an irreverent ground cover, she remained…
I finally recognized I have “opposing” definitions of a woman. Two iconic images living in my head but not allowed to coexist. The icon of successful working woman embodies respect and power and legitimization. It took us a long time to find our way into the world of (almost) equal employment. And the icon of…
For years, I dreamed of a patch of dirt to lovingly cultivate my garden in. I exclaimed that was the reason I wanted to own a house. “Be careful what you wish for” doesn’t begin to sum up the torture I’ve endured for the sake of the dirt that accompanied the house I bought nine…
As one week rolls into the next, we find ourselves standing somewhere new. No we didn’t plan it. And yes, we must accept that despite our every loving plan to correlate, coördinate, and coöperate to control our destinies, there’s always something right outside our peripheral vision sniggering at us for our naiveté. In the middle…
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