Silver or gold. A prompt.

I wrote this in twelve minutes, you try.

Silver or gold? Is it a question, or a statement?

What do you think? Is it the wealth of the boat ladies down by the shore, you’d expect gold but it’s the class, the class of the plain silver, the ‘I’m so wealthy and have been for so long, that I don’t need to do anything ornate. I’m a New England Smith for goodness sakes.’ the gold is for the Italians, the Jews, the flash.

Silver or gold? The friendships, the new ones, the old ones? I don’t know which is which, I think I probably have some of the new England boat lady in me, although I’m sure they’d dispute me, but heavily mixed with the chicken shit and mud of the maine dairy farmer, and my friendships range but none are pure. None.

Silver or gold? On the tree, a mix of both. It’s the sparkle for me, the way in which the light catches and is reflected and yet also stays in place, static and kinetic.

My kids sparkle.the dog does not. He’s a solid peace of lead. Lovely for what you need, but leaden. Don’t put your tongue on him.

Silver or gold? Both. A slurry, that molten mercurial slither. Harry potter on audio. A night alone to make a fire and look at a tree and watch truly terrible but pretty movies.

Silver or gold? snowflakes hang around the kitchen . I think they are the evergreens, despite their whiteness. Did she just call snowflakes the evergreens, despite all evidence to the absolute contrariness of that sentence? Absolutely. (third person self-referencing just temporary, i swear)

Silver or gold? The singing snowman puts them together, no ‘or’, but an ‘and’. Both, inclusive.

Silver or gold? Maude is in here somewhere? The slurry perhaps. The mixing of metals and the melt into a new form.

The visiting room at the facility, the ways in which the lovers of the newcomers cling to their patients, not knowing anything but relief that the crisis is past, that they have survived it, unlike all the people who were not here. Who didn’t make it, who didn’t get found in time.

Silver and gold? The earrings that dangle in the ears of women, the bells, the come see me, the decoration at the heart of womanhood. What is it to refuse them? to not have silver or gold, anywhere, just flesh and fabric covering bones and blood. Nothing more.

Silver or gold? Working? Plaid shirts and Vermont in mind. Mountains and old guys in pickup trucks. Which one is that?

Hey there. Do a prompt. See what you get.

love you, do.


person holding gold and silver round coins
Photo by RODNAE Productions on

ITs the 21st, of December.

It’s the winter solstice, yes, but. . .

It’s in my mind, every waking moment. Did I get equal amounts? Did I forget someone? is there a huge hole in one of the lists? When do i decorate the kitchen? How’m I going to get the freaking yard candycanes out? I do not know, man. I really do not know. Certainly not this morning. The coffee was heated up from yesterday. I need more but I’m still recovering from last night’s frigid farmstand and my body is a goddamned pain wheelbarrow. I’m a sick sad fool and I’m trying to save money over Christmas so there is no coffee bought on the road, and no donuts purchased. What kind of sick bastard does that to herself at this time of year?

I think I’m done. I’m not sure I’m done. There is food here, and that’s 60% of saving Christmas. Yes, it is. (Say anything different and I’ll do the whole screaming thing again. Don’t do it.)

i love the sparkle, i love the preparation for winter. I loved the grocery shop i did yesterday because I could feel the depression-era part of me just thrilling at the pantry staples I was buying, the extra bag of kindling guaranteed to help us be toasty and together in the kitchen. I started a cookie dough that has to chill for a bit so I’ve got an after-school project. I took on an extra eight hour shift this week so not working next week much will be more okay. These are the things I can do.

O I like the sparkle. I like the three recognizable songs we’ll sing at Quaker Meeting on Christmas Eve. Quakers are lovely but they do not understand the awesome power of a song everyone knows being sung together, and they regularly introduce us all to very very old hymns on Christmas eve. Yes. Sigh. I roll, the kids roll.

I’m trying to talk to myself a little bit about some of the things I do not like, besides the obvious financial strain and pressure to ‘make it’ something… Christmas prep, decorating and wrapping solo really does suck. I’m not quite able to festive my way through it, and it bothers me, both the alone part and the inability to control my mindset. I’m just bothered and I get a little unhappy. This year I am going to have Thursday night and Friday night (after basketball games) to get it done, and I’ve got to make a plan to assuage my monsterous mood. I’m hoping to put on a favorite movie and eat some of the cookies I’ve made. Maybe I’ll turn the heat way up for a little toasty nest feeling. I don’t really drink but maybe I’ll set some mulled cider to cook, or one of those random scent pots that people do- cinnamon and oranges and stuff. ?

what am i, a pilgrim?

Anyhow. Happy Solstice to you all. The longest night. Rest up, set your intentions. Be good to each other. Love you much. Always very thrilled to hear from you, so bring it.

The New Year is coming! The New Year is coming!

-love love,


anise aroma aromatic blur
Photo by Pixabay on

dear god, it’s me, incapable.

I’d love to tell you the website was down. it may have been. but I’ve been unable to open the page which enables me to write a new post on my laptop. on my phone? why yes. But here, with space to type with two hands and a screen as big as I want? no, no, no. (if you tell me it’s my laptop and that I need a new one, I’m just going to start screaming nonstop for the next hour. people will be upset. don’t do it.)

clearly, i AM capable.

I’ve swamped the google with my questions and i’m clear of a cache and really, that’s just how simple it was. sluggish thy name is…

if none of that makes sense, you are probably my people. you are also my people if you’re laughing at how simple a fix that was.

Basically everyone is my people. except the hate mongers. but really, even them, if i could just get them to come and stay with me and my kids for a few weeks. There are other ways to be in the world, and I’ve got one of those ways.

I’m coming off of a birthday dinner with my middle, a brand new fifteen-year-old. He is very funny, and very charming, and so smart. Sitting at the dinner table with my kids and my mom last night, I just fell in love with them all. in all of their cantankerous, funny, teen and pre-teen ways, these kids are just fucking incredible. it’s one of the great bittersweets that having one who is a senior and will leave the nest soon, has made everything so sweet, so watchable, so sentimental. It’s a great gift to have this time to watch them and see them together. these moments are really affecting their entire lives, these sibling relationships. I dream that they’ll be able to support each other as they go forward in their lives.

Meanwhile, they’ll have to deal with the fact that they are getting a lot of socks for Christmas. As a team, they’ll start the support system sooner than they’d rather. I’m very much the hopeful mom on that one. I’m just going to make sure breakfast is good, that’s all there is to it.

Happy Winter Holidays to you, whatever you celebrate, however you live. . .

love love,


Cosmic Fairy Lights
Cosmic Fairy Lights by NASA Goddard Photo and Video is licensed under CC-BY 2.0

Cosmic fairy lights? Seriously? C’mon NASA, its like you are in my brain. Wait. ARE YOU in my brain?


Yesterday I wrote. . .

This: The constancy with which my brain flits around?, when I want to staple it to one particular subject? damnit.

I don’t have adhd or anything even close. But man, the way my brain skitters from the things I must think, or do. Reptilian, arachnid. Disgusting and in my own flipping head. The car certainly took over great swathes of field for the past few weeks, but I’ve got work to do, and tv to avoid.

also this:

I really want to be away, in isolation someplace, and I even want it to be something I have to stretch through, struggle with. I think I need to face myself. Label the parts of me that flit and merge and morph. I think the slips of paper will coalesce into something I can understand more.

me. yesterday, 12/6/22

I’m grateful for woodstoves. Coffee. Soft clothing.

I’m grateful that I’ve started to hold real boundaries. That I can see that they are good for me, that they hold me to the standard of protecting myself, in a healthy way. I’m grateful that I can rely on my sense of humor, even when I don’t know how I can possibly be accessing it. I’m just glad that I can walk through the world like I can.

I’m grateful for the time and the space I’ve had these last 7 years. This ability to ‘not work’, pay my bills and watch the kids grow, all because I married someone who now makes a lot of money. How ’bout that. I suppose I am supposed to stretch and say I’m glad I married him. Sigh. Working on it.

So glad of them, though, so unblemished a gratitude… so grateful that they exist, so proud that I find them so interesting and funny and full of heart.

pile of covered books
Photo by Pixabay on

All in one day, folks. All in one day. It’s astonishing I’ve not won the Pulitzer, isn’t it?


That car is mine now. Zippy.

Well, mine and the bank’s. And it is super zippy. So deliciously zippy. I can honestly say that ceasing the anxiety of driving a car with every emergency light on has been amazing. Her favorite thing to do at the end was stall out at a stoplight. So much fun. Only in letting her go did I ever give her a gender. She did her job. I drove her until there was no more drive.

And I can honestly say that 98% of what spurred me to get the car I did was exhaustion; exhaustion from anxiety and exhaustion from ceaseless car research. My mother let me borrow her car for several days in a row and it was heavenly and almost necessary that I drive her car, which has 287,000 miles on it. I just surrendered. Car salesmen got me in the chair, and I would have given them my children just to make it all stop.

I don’t think I got taken advantage of, by the way. Because I had a little time when I knew I’d need a new car, I’d actually done a shit ton of research. So I don’t think I’ll be unhappy with my purchase. Maybe when I realize that the bills will just not stop. Ha. But that is probably true when any damn big purchase is made, I suppose. I always expect to be turned down. Where the hell does that come from? No idea at all. But there it is.

and now, the rush.

…And I’ve just finished my FAFSA, to begin the whole shebang of kids in college and all that foolishness. And I bought an easel off Facebook marketplace this weekend and I’m wildly in love with it. I just keep looking at it as an object. Maybe I should’ve bought an uglier one. It’s like a perfect notebook, that you don’t want to write in because it’ll get ruined.

well. idiocy.

And what else? Plant watering is getting away from me and I worry about my houseplants. Pulled up all my dahlias to carry them through the year and now I have no idea how to store them and the whole livingroom is full of what looks like bulbous dried turds. I have a friend who’s son is a chef and I got one of the best meals of my life this week. Holy salivation. I made the call to a home health aide place, and they’ve put me on their list for aides. I don’t know if that means anything, like: will they call me?, but I’m wondering if I get more hands-on experience, I’ll have more of a notion if I would like to make a life around taking care of the elderly, until i become so, i guess. Made my daughter watch the Muppets Christmas Carol and I was bored out of my head. Gah. Gonzo is the only one I love. And also, two of my favorite people got great new job news this week and I’m jealous, I mean, not in a horrible way. Maybe jealous is the wrong word. I’m curious for myself, I think. I’m over the moon for them both and small slices of me slide into contentment at hearing other people’s joy. Great feeling of bubbling bliss. I miss my friend Pam, another bubbler of bliss, and she’s just a damn phone call away. Why aren’t I calling out for more?

and i wonder what the heck is my next movement of joy as regards work? I’m not especially adept at waiting, i confess that much, and i’m not necessarily working towards anything, or it doesn’t feel that way. just muddling. maybe its the doldrums of a seasonal worker? Gargh. So, when allowing things to happen organically, and being impatient, and recognizing actions are necessary, one feels all vitamixed up and choppy.

Yeah, man, I don’t think I should publish this either.

but then .

reality of a bullishly stubborn person… here it is.


An old beginning and some new ones.