These days I mostly try not to write. My life is so full of work and family and weeding. But every now and then, my brain starts to itch and the only way to scratch that itch is writing. This is where you will find my most recent scratchings.
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Freezing Our Asses Off
Yes, we are. In New Orleans. It just doesn’t seem fair. Apparently it’s an epic cold snap. Tropical plants everywhere are fallen like cards. Pipes are freezing. People huddle around space heaters in their ridiculously inadequate houses. In fact I’m colder here now than I’ve ever been, inside my own home, in Alaska. (Well, except maybe for the tipi days. Those were some cold ones.) These people just did not build their houses to deal with the 21 degrees we’re getting. I guess it’s pretty rare. But I am nevertheless completely appalled. Some of the things, like the 12 foot…
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Morning in Mamaville
I am a morning person. Not the kind of morning person who opens my bright eyes at 6 am and leaps bushy tailed from bed mind you. I am the kind who, if I can pry myself out of bed early enough to have an hour to myself, to wake up with my own thoughts, am so much the better person. There’s nothing I love more than a morning alone with coffee at hand, reading, writing, or otherwise stretching my brain gently to ready it for the day. Like any junkie I’ll do just about anything to get that hour.…
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The Mad Farmer Poems
I fell for Wendell Berry’s new book in October. We have one of those gorgeous small neighborhood bookstores near our house that the Hubby coerced me into entering. I knew what would happen. I would fall in love. With some book I suddenly wouldn’t want to live without. Bookstores are a unique torture for me. And I did, of course. Ole Wendell is my second favorite non-fiction writer (after my beloved Sandor Ellix Katz) and I had wanted to delve into his poetry for some time.That’s all well and good, but even worse, this book is a non-standard size- extra…
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My Name’s Jane. Will You Be My Friend?
Just talked to a friend back home today, and it gave me a pain in my gut. I do miss having friends. And I don’t mean people I talk to now and then at the Parenting Center or at meetups. I mean a friend. Both she and I are too busy with kiddos to talk much, but when we do talk, it always feels like holding back a flood. We have a gigantic backlog of things to talk about that we’ll never even get to. That’s what I mean by a friend. When was the last time you actively made…
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Community Garden Politics
I’m back to work on my garden plot, and oh am I ever excited. Got the bed frame built today (and yesterday, thanks to a good Husband who took the wee ones for long walks, which is about all that makes the Babe happy these days). Now I just have to wait for the dirt. Which could be awhile. Bacon said two weeks (the non-profit in charge of all the community gardens is getting a giant soil donation), which could mean significantly longer…. boohoo. I hate to be an ungrateful mother, I do love those little buggers like nothing else,…
calamity jane 