When I was in high school, we told a joke: This life is a test. It is only a test. Had this been an actual life you would have been told where to go and what to do. We can choose what we do with ourselves and we can choose to seek meaning. But we [...]
Most days I find glass during my walk on the beach, but I always find agates. Rarely I will pick up a feather. I lean down slowly, sliding my hand down my thigh, and even so my head throbs when I pluck a treasure from the sand. Ten days ago I suffered a concussion in [...]
I have a brief creative nonfiction essay in issue 59 of Dinty Moore's Brevity. All the work there is nonfiction and very short (under 750 words). My true story, "A Murder of Crows," recounts an event from some years ago at a local summer camp. This journal's website has been a valuable resource for my [...]
I fell hard yesterday. I was doing something stupid, trotting backwards as I tried to photograph my husband and a seastack and he kept walking right out of my frame. (If he knows he's being photographed, he mugs or frowns. Photos of Gary smiling are pretty rare.) So I was backing up to keep Gary [...]
Linking to an article about "lawnmower parents" triggered an interesting discussion on my Facebook page. Some were defensive about "rescuing" or failing to "rescue" children. Others pointed out that some children genuinely need more guidance than others due to disabilities and disadvantages that may not even be visible. As a private and public school teacher, [...]
Last year a student argued that black people were not being unfairly targeted by police because unarmed white people had been killed by police too. Entirely absent from the student's research was some simple math which would have revealed, that yes, it's true Whites as well as Blacks are killed, but black people are disproportionately [...]
It is the last of August, and this ending could not come too soon. It's been a memorable month. There are great things about August: my wedding anniversary, the birthday of my older son, and surely something else. In the old days, August is the month I began playing solitaire compulsively—with cards, not on the [...]
