That ingenious little device, the Etch A Sketch, saved me on more than one occasion during childhood: trapped in the back seat of my parents’ sedan, weary of reading or coloring, riding shotgun with a bothersome younger brother all the way from Memphis across the states of Arkansas and then Texas, I could occupy myself … Continue reading Story of Renewal: Wiping the Slate Clean
Transitions
Gardening Story: True Confessions of a Mulching Enthusiast
Mulch, gentle reader, covers a multitude of sins. I know how to spread mulch: I am good at spreading mulch. David-the-Chef wants to know why on earth we should have a load of mulch delivered. I ask you, Does this question even merit an answer? Isn't it OBVIOUS? Mulch gussies up everything it touches: it is … Continue reading Gardening Story: True Confessions of a Mulching Enthusiast
Unpacking Hope: A Sunday Wish
So, so many material belongings that came with me to Vermont all the way from Tennessee have waited patiently in storage for the last three years: things David and I considered nonessential when we combined two households three years ago, the year I started writing and editing professionally full time for a marketing agency. But … Continue reading Unpacking Hope: A Sunday Wish
Vermontish Doppelgängers and Other Christmas Week Reflections
This one thing still happens to me every week, if not every day: I see somebody and I think I know who it is for an instant, and then remember there is no way I could possibly know them. I am new here still, and mainly disconnected, still. Back ‘home’ in Knoxville I could scarcely … Continue reading Vermontish Doppelgängers and Other Christmas Week Reflections
Shape Shifting Words and Other Moving Truths
Have you ever fixated on a simple word until it’s no longer recognizable? The word desk, for example, is a four-letter word that means “a table, frame, or case with a sloping or horizontal surface especially for WRITING and reading and often with drawers, compartments, and pigeonholes,” so says Merriam Webster. Roll around the word … Continue reading Shape Shifting Words and Other Moving Truths
Find a Penny
You are a hoverer, I said to the twenty-something this morning, aware of his presence just behind and to the left of me while I was kneading biscuit dough. A what? A hoverer: whatever I’m doing, there you are, hovering like a helicopter. The other morning you were standing there at the bathroom door talking … Continue reading Find a Penny
Hole in That Theory: B & W Challenge Day 7
Birds around here fall silent in winter, but this summer and fall the woods around this little cottage have resonated with so much birdsong at times that we've raised a fist skyward: trying to sleep, here—can you please keep it down? A parliament of owls lives in our trees. That's what you call a group … Continue reading Hole in That Theory: B & W Challenge Day 7
Yankee Flour, Southern Biscuits: Sunday Photo Essay
Changing your address can change your life, chirped a too-cheerful woman in a slick TV advert for planned community living. We are long accustomed to cranking out some pretty impressive cuisine in our outdated, strapped-for-space, apartment-sized kitchen. We've made do using a teeny kitchen table that belongs to our landlord as adjunct counter space, perfected … Continue reading Yankee Flour, Southern Biscuits: Sunday Photo Essay
October in Vermont: Season of ‘Lasts’
It’s unfair to name October a season, which more properly belongs to fall. But it does mark a big transition in these parts, a time beyond which the air feels more authentically like winter to a person with Southern roots. Not once in the five Vermont winters I’ve seen have we missed a respectable snowfall—a … Continue reading October in Vermont: Season of ‘Lasts’
New Real Friends: A (Hopeful) Lamentation
Our parents serve as eternal reminders of every ‘cute’ thing we said and did in childhood, however stridently we might wish to forget: it’s a parenting privilege. I find myself doing it to my own twenty-something these days, even across the miles that separate us. I need my bref-kass, I mutter in the early morning … Continue reading New Real Friends: A (Hopeful) Lamentation
Sycamore Stories 