• Real Life

    Owner of a Broken Heart

    Okay, so that’s not what it’s really called. This song (how is it possible that it’s 41 years old?!) came to mind this morning as I think about the tear-filled evening I spent watching anime last night. It’s been two weeks since I got up and saw how my sweet big boy (dog) Woola was struggling, his wavering steps in the door of my office, how hard he seemed to be … trying to do everything. My heart is still so sore from finding him the morning of 8 January, laying in the hall across from my office where he’d…

  • Non-fiction

    Furtive Glimpses

    Furtive … Such a wonderful word. It’s the one that came to mind as I laid in bed this morning. The day had started without me — it wasn’t yet bright, but there was light outside, which filtered in through the bathroom windows. The running joke when I bought this house was that the person who owned it was a vampire. During the walk-through, we couldn’t see the bedroom very well because he had it super-dark in there; the story we actually got was that he worked nights, slept days, that sort of thing. I do like the vampire story…

  • Non-fiction

    The Inner Madwoman

    I’ve been reading a book called Burnout by Nagoski and Nagoski. My counselor recommended it and I do, too, even though I’m not finished with it yet. There were lots of bits I earmarked and underlined in the early pages, but what really nabbed me was the discussion of the inner madwoman. I’m paraphrasing but the idea is that we all have an inner madwoman, who lives in the attic (our minds); she is the bridge between who we are and who we think we are supposed to be. She says and does all the things we don’t dare. There…

  • Non-fiction

    Revisiting Some Favorite Faces

    I might be a little bigger than I was when the Don’t Eat That! blog post was written. A couple years ago, I wrote a blog post with info about things you shouldn’t feed your canine family members. The post also included other tips from the site, The Goody Pet. One thing that was missing was comfort info. If you have a dog, large or small, you probably spend far too much on food, treats, clothes, leashes, collars, and maybe even mats and beds. Just like us, many dogs (or is it just mine?) like to lay on or under…

  • Non-fiction

    Still Angry, After All These Years …

    The tears were salty and made my view blurry as I washed dishes this morning. It was 5:30 am and I realized my dad would have turned 80 today. I mean, I realized October 17th was coming; I was reading my devotional a couple mornings ago and thought Wow, Dad’s birthday would have been in a couple days. This coming December 9th will mark 25 years since he was killed in that car accident and I’m still angry. I’m angry because I didn’t get to see the driver who killed him, to look him in the face. I was pregnant,…

  • Non-fiction

    #RealTalkTuesdays: Wishes

    You know that old phrase, right? How often have you said or thought, or heard someone say something akin to it? I saw an advert for cheap cremation a few days back. The site offered a short questionnaire to gather last wishes and a way to pay for all of it prior to end of life. That way, things will (ideally) be done the way the person wants it, with little left to others. I like that idea, since I think my wishes are pretty simple. Last week marked yet another social display of grief and remembrance for a public…

  • Flash Fiction

    Dreams of Home

    I was riding a bike. Or gliding. Or doing that walking without walking thing, like characters in a Spike Lee film.Whatever it was, I was doing it on the old street back home, where I grew up. In that place where dreams are made, it all looked like it did the last time I drove the drive and walked the walk so many years ago. The only difference was that it was all … older. The houses that were old then were absolutely ancient now.I stopped in front of Mrs. Sales\’ house. It was boarded up and weeds were the…

  • Flash Fiction

    A Feminism Conundrum

    If this post makes you angry, you might consider your own positionality rather than mine. After all, this is my space, which you are free to vacate whenever you choose. I simply ask a bit of decency and respect — that if you disagree, that you do so appropriately.That said, here\’s the thing. There is a difference between feminism and ol\’ school Gone with the Wind \’femininity\’.It seems to me (again I say this: my space, my queries, my conundrums) that a person cannot shout \’feminist\’ out of one side of the neck, touting the need for equality and access…

  • Non-fiction

    Snippets of Real Life

    He drove the little truck through the parking lot slowly, looking past us to a point in space none could see as he went by our set-up. I was in the park with my friends who give out food and my task was to get the signatures of those who picked up today\’s goods. My friend\’s husband has to provide a sign-in sheet to the food bank where he gets many of the items to show that he is, in fact, handing out what he is given.As I stood and looked to the south, I saw a dark sedan; the…

  • Non-fiction

    How Did I Get Here?

    [embedyt] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I1wg1DNHbNU[/embedyt]Watching my dogs run in the sun, I laugh as Sputnik chases a butterfly. The Santa Ana wind is blowing and the gusts carry the insect higher into the blue bright heat of mid-day, but she does not give up. Back and forth she races beneath it, squinting into the sun and dust.I wonder how dogs keep sand-grit out of their eyes enough to not stop chasing what it is they are after.I cup my hand against my face as another gust blows sand at me angrily. My shadow on the ground does the same and I suspect my…