Up early these days. With the dog, the cats. The stars up in black sky. This morning, I was ready for snow. Crept downstairs so as not to wake my warm, sleeping family, then stopped at our front door. The house across the street. A Christmas tree in the top right window year-round. Our American … More awake again
She sleeps so soundly, but I don’t because I don’t know how. There’s too much pounding in my brain, ringing in my ears. And there’s ache in my hands, wrists, hips, and feet. I can’t stop thinking about how night wraps up all around me, us, and how eventually it wins. Takes everything. Makes it … More she sleeps
(Recently, I asked my students to experiment with freewriting…just letting words roll out from wherever they come. So, I thought I would do the same.) I don’t feel like being metaphorical or creative or moving this morning. I want to get on with the day, but it’s already here. Somehow, I get into it without … More freewriting blasphemy
In two inches of shitty water. Plunging the drain in the basement. Over and over again. Wads of hair. Toilet paper. Band-aids. Pieces of foil. Rubber bands. Bits of unidentifiable things built up over years, even long before we got here. It splashes me. It stinks. But it’s nearly midnight and I’m not losing this … More life doesn’t wait for backed up sewer lines
Early Sunday morning. A car stops on State Street because a flock of geese crosses the road. They are doing what they’ve been doing for millions of years. Moving from Point A to Point B. They’ve experienced disease, drought, famine, and legitimate predators—not the weekend gun-jockeys that pop them off in parks during three-day hunts … More crossing the road
This kid thing isn’t easy. That’s why it’s rewarding. They push and stretch and shape you in ways you could never imagine. It’s all good though. As long as you can keep your guts out of it as necessary, and make logical decisions based on reason, they turn out okay. None of them are perfect. … More raising kids–it’s a crapshoot
The sky threatened for hours. Light, then dark. Light, then dark. Light, then an expanse of dull gray, puffed up and floating above the big lake and our little town. The rain, mostly unpredictable sprinkles, came and went. Came and went. But we welcomed the day, and we were happy. This was yesterday. Our anniversary. … More twelve years into it
(from the opening of Black) We are halfway between the equator and the North Pole. At least that’s what the sign says alongside the road. It is big and green with white block lettering and it is mounted to two eight by eights that are cemented into the ground. Anyone traveling US 23, the single … More The 45th Parallel
Up to the city siren and out of bed quickly to survey the situation. As if there’s anything I could do to save us. The fierce wind drives waves of rain. Trees and wires sway. Lawn chairs tumble across the yard. Bird feeders swing wildly on their hooks. A garbage can rolls down the street. … More sunday morning storm
A twelve-year-old girl keeps a sunfish in a bucket for days. One she caught while camping. She feeds it bits of leftover burger. Dried worms from the sidewalk. Poor, stupid moths that bang against her bedroom window. And ants. The sunfish floats. Surrounded by white walls. Under a narrow shaft of light. The big sky … More no hands
The virus is picking up pace again. At least that’s what the news reports. I’m not sure if it’s that more people are getting it or that we’re discovering that more people have it. I suppose that’s the same thing, but what I’m trying to get at is if we went around testing everyone to … More “We want the world, and we want it now.” ~ Jim Morrison
It’s time to drive gravel roads that cut through the hardwoods. To creep along sandy trails that meander through sprawling forests of pine. Driving off the pavement is one of my favorites. I enjoy opening the windows, smelling the fresh air, listening to the sound the tires make as they explore unfamiliar terrain. I am … More backroaders
We’re more alike than different. Until we recognize this and act upon it through kindness and understanding, the shitshow will continue. We can’t blame 2020. And it’s not a certain group, team, color, race, sight or sound. It’s you. And it’s me. We aren’t making the best decisions we can. We’re moving along in our … More unicorns, ice cream, and balloons
Sunday evening. I’m walking with my wife and our dog, Spindle. Six days away from twelve years of marriage. Burning a few calories. Coming down from a busy week. Seeking stress relief. Her from me. Me from all that moves around inside that I don’t know how to explain. And we get into a groove. … More a walk on the north side
