The sky outside my window is gray, but the sun is stubbornly trying to break through. From the blue stripes, it looks like the sun will win.
The sun needs to lose. At least for a few days. Because what we need right now isn’t more sun. We need rain. We desperately need a week of gentle but steady rain because my corner of the world is on fire.
Here in the northwest, fire is not an uncommon thing. Fire season technically starts in September, but this year September came early and all those beautiful trees are very, very dry. And so are the grasses and sage brush and all the other growing things that makes the northwest such a very beautiful and cherished place in this world.
And so very much of it is on fire right now. Continue reading
So you read that title and some of you are now quoting the rest of TS Elliot’s The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock and the rest of you are probably worried about if you need to stage an intervention for my coffee problem. Either group of you are good folks and I’m glad to have you. But if you don’t know The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, feel free to go give it a read. Don’t worry, I’ll just have another cup of coffee while you’re gone.
There, wasn’t that a simply divine poem? And no, I don’t have it memorized. I’m not that sort of soul. But I also don’t think that makes a body terribly impressive aside from being able to perform at boring cocktail parties. And heaven knows, I can “perform” at any cocktail party with or without Elliot’s mastery. Continue reading
This past weekend was an unusual one for me and my family. For the first time in what felt like close to forever, we didn’t have anything on the calendar. Instead, it was a weekend of taking our time, enjoying one another’s company, and pausing so we didn’t miss the nightly sun set.
It was the kind of weekend that reminds me of all the wonderful gifts in my life, especially the four people in this universe who mean the most to me. Continue reading
First off, hi there. Secondly, take a moment if you will to go read this awesome poem “Where Have You Been?” by my young friend Kate Borman. She was sweet enough to include me in a blog hoppy award gizmo, but the real prize is her poem.
Thirdly, back to me.
So I’m writing again. Well, trying to write again. And it’s going slow at best and not at all for the most part.
First off, this isn’t an ode. Not in the real, Webster’s definition, kind of way. It’s more of a blog about toast. Maybe a blogode? Or what ee cummings would have written about toast if he was a toast-eating, ode-eating dude in 2013 with a blog. Whatever, this is about toast. If you can’t handle my mangling of the ode format, you need more toast in your life. Continue reading
I’ve been deep in thought about many things of late. Not particularly unusual for me, that habit of navel gazing even when fully clothed in the minutia of life. The sun is making its rays felt here a bit more these days and that has me thinking about things flora, of the persistence of life pushing its way up through the dirt and lifting its face to the sun. Spring brings new life and the chance for my compost bin to heat up.
Stirring the Compost
The lid lifts and the smell of dirt greets me. Not dirt like in a farmer’s
South forty or what’s squashed into plastic bags down at the store,
But dirt made by my hands, gardening tools, and family’s menu. Continue reading
The weather here has been cold and foggy lately, causing the fog horns to bleat their mournful calls into the dark all day long. Being near the river and the port, the fog horns are close by here. After hearing that some folks were weary of the hearing the fog horns all day, I realized that I was, in fact, not weary of hearing them.
Instead, I embrace their calls.