You ever had one of those years, the sort that turns everything upside down? Mornings you can't really lay in bed, even on a Sunday, because your mind is going to find its way down the drain-of-no-return, and soon you'll be thinking about all your carefully laid plans, the trips you meant to take, where … Continue reading Things That Make Sense
My grandmother believed that all children like to be scared, at least a little. In Sunday school, elementary school, even as a babysitter, she taught kids her favorite rhyme: Here’s a candle to light you to bed here’s a chopper to chop off your head! Not all parents endorsed her ideas about kids and fear, … Continue reading The Great Grimpen Mire
A snapshot of July, 1979, at our house in southern Illinois: Dad, at work. My little brother, I don’t know. My twin sister, I don’t know. My mother, possibly in the basement sewing, in the kitchen doing dishes, or out front in her flower garden with the dog. In short, I don’t know. Me: barefoot, … Continue reading Hammock
The number 45 is: Half way to ninety. Cannot be divided in two. Comprised of two hyphenated F-words. Not very sexy. At this age, the typical adult needs a reading glasses magnification of 1.75. Common mild skin issues include: brittle nails, Poikiloderma (aka "redneck"), and seborrhoeic keratoses (once known as "senile warts"). Foot pain is … Continue reading The Second Half: A Reckoning
My kids are huge suddenly. Nora eats more, has a stomach and needs her sleep. She cracks jokes, has moods, and when she tries to cuddle it can be awkward, because she is so physically big. We barely both fit in the overstuffed chair. She doesn't fit under my downward dog the way she used … Continue reading Tuesdays
My dad’s twenty-fifth high school reunion was held in Vincennes, Indiana, at a Holiday Inn. For the first time, my sister, brother and I were left in the room unsupervised. I recall wandering to the lobby to see a bunch of intoxicated old people calling my dad “Ronny,” recounting how he once drove around the … Continue reading Let Me Show You the House of Prayer
I had forgotten. I had forgotten how you can’t see anything here. Even in the hills, which in the west promise vistas and sweeping feelings of honesty and cleanliness, in the Appalachians are all about shroud. Misty mornings, damp evenings, light filtered through whatever it is that hangs in the air, moisture, pollen, insects, scent. … Continue reading This Neck of the Woods
Let me start with what I am not saying: that a writer's kids learning to write is a bigger deal than her neighbors' kids. Or that a writer's kids are any more adept at it, have an affinity for it, or any more right to language than the nurse's kids. It's not a contest; this … Continue reading Do Not Deep Strv
My sister found them before I did, back in the days that we bought records we read about in Rolling Stone magazine. She was a fan, bought album after album, knew their names. And maybe that was why I didn't; she had her stuff and I had mine. Even if she was the bigger fan, … Continue reading Gardening at Night
I've heard about these for decades. Which is to say that several five year segments have passed without me having formulated one. I do still remember writing in a journal that I needed to have a novel published before I was thirty, a move I now consider a curse. But recently I've had some forward … Continue reading The five year plan