This morning my Handsome Chef Boyfriend gave me a smooch on his way out the door back to his own stomping grounds, just a bit further afield than I would like. Be careful, I said; let me know when you’re there safe. Do you ever stop worrying about things, he chided? No. Never. I never, … Continue reading Rancor-Me-Not
Transitions
Bump in the Road
Southern friends, this one's for you. (And it is emphatically not a metaphor for anything.) Late last winter or maybe early spring, not sure, Handsome Chef Boyfriend and I were headed across the Connecticut River to a favorite little eatery over in Lyme for a pleasant cold-grey-day lunch. I was behind the wheel of my … Continue reading Bump in the Road
Polar Vortex
Yes, it really is as bad as it seems. Looks like a five-year-old got into the yarn, huh? Or maybe the booze? Multiply by ten, and you're almost there. I remember an epic argument between my teenage self and my mama just before my senior year in high school. Take Home Economics, she urged; you … Continue reading Polar Vortex
Just click your heels together three times…
Have you ever awakened in the darkness and have no idea where you are? Once in a while this happens to me, more often than not of late. Is this my bedroom? Where? Wait, not Memphis--I have not lived there since childhood. Knoxville. Wrong again. I live in Vermont now. Am I in the cottage? No, I … Continue reading Just click your heels together three times…
Quiet November Saturday: A Photo Essay
Finding peace is work. It takes effort--every single day--to keep pushing back the fear and worry that refuse to loose their grip on me since my solo mid-century reboot last August. And then there are beautiful moments of amnesty. Vermont has been good to me mainly; for the time being I come home to 180 … Continue reading Quiet November Saturday: A Photo Essay
Sunshine on a Cloudy Day, and All That. (Beauty herein.)
Promised rain and chilly temperatures came to my corner of New England today, and so I did the only reasonable thing under the circumstances. The season's first pot of chili now sits on my stove. My little loft has been filled variously with the earthy aroma of boiling Mung and Azuki beans (gifts from Handsome … Continue reading Sunshine on a Cloudy Day, and All That. (Beauty herein.)
The Final Straw
I wish I could enjoy with wild abandon the New England beauty around me, particularly now, during these dry, sunny fall days—these are good hair days through and through. But I can’t when I am preoccupied with Stressful Things because I am hard wired that way, dammit. A confessed linear thinker, I can be faulted … Continue reading The Final Straw
Little Tests, Big Tests
The last time I raced I injured myself badly. Waiting at the starting line I felt growing irritation for a pack of college kids who had clearly decided to run that day as an afterthought; I gathered from their jawing that they were not runners, and also that they had been at a kegger 'til … Continue reading Little Tests, Big Tests
Home again.
Just off the highway that leads home I run the gauntlet between these beauties every day in my car. They swish back and forth and make a satisfying thwack-thwack-thwack in protest as I drive through them, often leaving delicate yellow petals on my car windshield and hood. If I pause on the tiny wooden bridge … Continue reading Home again.
Sycamore Stories 