Traditions, old and new. Every year we decorate a gingerbread house for Christmas. It’s a task that begins with anticipation, spirals into my frustration and yelps when my gingerbread roof caves in or I break the icing bag tip and have to spread the icing with my finger, and ends in laughter and our eating a third of the candy sprinkles and dots reserved for the trim. I love it.
Homecoming weekend! Tailgating, s’mores making, theater performances, live chess match, cider pressing, and barely time to sleep. Of course no visit to see your kid is complete without the obligatory pose in the quadrangle for photographs in the cold rain.
This is my favorite photo of 2016 not just because it’s of my daughter, but because it captures her disposition. The day I took this picture of her, we were aimlessly wandering the lighthouse jetty. She was happy to be home from school for a short break and I was happy to have the time with her, if only for a few days. I told her to sit, stood over her and asked she look up at the camera. Those… Keep Reading
When the month began, I thought we would see the country usher in the first woman president. By month’s end, I was grieved to see so many examples of the cruelty of mankind. November has been a fever in a year hostage to the crackle and sizzle of a slow-burning fuse. Self care was vital. Each day seeking out that which gives me joy. Holding close those I love. Praying I made a positive impact somewhere, anywhere. Still, I am… Keep Reading
Water always calls to me. The solitude. The romance. The constant churning of earth beneath the tide. Every important thing in my life is, or has been, a characteristic of the sea: my daughter, a small sea bird; my brothers, bright sturdy boats; my father, a lighthouse; my mother, a mooring; my lover, a fisherman; and myself a mermaid. These roles shift over time, but unlike the shoreline they never erode. These are the people who anchor me.
Beneath the thinning ice A small streamlet flows; Spring is made of my heart. She’s a fighter. Not a brute or a bully, but determined, resolved, purposeful. Water flowing around rock, slowing jagged edge into something level, smooth, a way through. She’s a fighter. Not a clamor, but a quiet hopefulness. She didn’t walk until she was ready and then she stood, unassisted, and walked from the family room into the kitchen. She didn’t talk until she had something to… Keep Reading