Joy bubbles, January

Its time for a joy list… joys and some dips, because that’s how it is.

  1. When I put down the dish soap and a little bubble escapes to float around the sink. I love that.
  2. Sparkling eyes. I love that. (In these days of masks? Sometimes its all I get. But you really can see the sparkle, even if that’s all you see.)
  3. I love the possibilities that I am coming up with when I think about overhauling this house. Two bureaus on the curb. At least. Purge. Purge. Purge. (and I am daunted, amongst the joys, too. There is so much overwhelm here. And in life. So much.)
  4. I’m writing a story called fight crab. I kind of adore the ridiculousness. (I started well but finishing? Ah. The rub, the dip.)
  5. As much as I love color, I am sitting in greys, grey pajama pants with stars, grey sweater and I feel like a Swedish hug. Like, come see me in my Nordic tiny house glowing under the aurora, I am here. I will make you a fire and a magical drink.
  6. Geraniums, by god. The smell of them clarifies the whole damn thing. Last summer I bought five babies after the season was done, a dollar each! And I have so much. Take a walk in my nook. (3 steps.)
  7. Non-sequiturs. I love the way my mind can jump ship and swim for a minute and still catch the boat before its gone, or not. It might be hard to follow, but not for me.
  8. The piles of books around me are maddening, but I’m filled up by looking at them. The chaos brings the possibility that one of them will be a great love. Or take me off to dreamscape #4258. And I haven’t been there yet.
  9. My kids when they sneeze. It makes me see their youth and remember their sneezes as babies. Is there anything cuter than a sneezing baby? (I am such a mom. And so proud of it. And its not going anywhere. And oh my god, babies.)
  10. I appreciate already, how much laughter I bring into the world. My kids are better for it, and I am better for it, and I’ve gifted it to them, and they to me.

*by the way, on my night of restorative sleep, the dog decided to wake me THREE times. THRICE. motherfucker. So, i was up early. I make a joy list in retaliation. Is that questionable? I do not know. but it is Saturday, and as you know, we have no plans. so i will nap. i will.

brown cottage under aurora borealis
EXACTLY. Photo by Stefan Stefancik on


There is nothing wrong, January.

“The pleasure of abiding. The pleasure of insistence, of persistence. The pleasure of obligation, the pleasure of dependency. The pleasures of ordinary devotion.
The pleasure of recognizing that one may have to undergo the same realizations, write the same notes in the margin, return to the same themes in one’s work, relearn the same emotional truths, write the same book over and over again – not because one is stupid or obstinate or incapable of change, but because such revisitations constitute a life.” –
Maggie Nelson

This quote. This thing settled down on me like a net, slicing through me in geometries.

Its not, repeat and repeat until you finally learn the lesson, its not ‘cycle after cycle of the same lesson’ because you just cannot get it, you are so thick you fell for another addict…it is the revisitation that constitutes a life.

i’m not stupid, i’m just living.

JESUS. Pleasure, not trial.


I mix my hedonism with practicality, i do. but i wish more people could lighten up. get earthy with themselves.

there is so much in there, and i don’t even know how to begin to dig it up, to unearth it for you.


go find some.

i’m going to organize another raised bed for myself this spring. I might go wild and plant all flowers again. my kids don’t flipping eat vegetables, so what is the point of spinach? Maybe a pepper or two? I’ll have lavender to sell this year, barring pestilence.


Pleasure. run your hands through a bowl of rice if you have to. climb under the weighted blanket, or lover, or dog. whatever you got.

that quote. man, i am sliced.

slices of red orange on white background
Photo by Any Lane on

there’s nothing wrong with you. you’re just living.




January: It begins with

It begins with , from Cynthia lee prompt parade.

  1. It begins with time, and thought and a space for them all.
  2. It begins with coffee, and the luck to have some left over from yesterday afternoon, so- fastest ever arrival of joy.
  3. It begins with I, because I can’t still be arguing with myself about my own self-worth. Put me on the damn list, already. (I literally resisted this one. what the fuck is that about ? I am 46 fucking years old and i still resist putting myself on a list?! Jesus.)
  4. It begins with putting candles around the bathtub, now clean because, you know, it also begins with bathroom cleaning.
  5. It begins with paying the mortgage.
  6. It begins with re-assessing my relationship with retail therapy. I’m cut off, folks. I’m getting sloppy and trigger-finger with the amazon. It is not need-based and must cease. It is going to cause me problems paying the tripling heat bills. Cease.
  7. It begins with rejoining a dating site. (and possibly ends there too. I’m of two minds. Its so deeply unsatisfying, and I have great trouble not putting too much import on it.)
  8. It begins with locating the tarot cards, a focus is needed. There are so many things I need to find, this year, in this house, out there. Lost and Found, Hide and Seek, on a global scale.
  9. It begins with reading the story I’ve been wanting to read but couldn’t find the time, or that focus.
  10. It begins with clear eyes, feathers brushed along their closed forms to take the year’s cobwebs and tears away.
  11. It begins with acknowledging what has died this year. And that somber note rings and rings and shakes the ground.

There is so much friends, and then so much more.

How does it begin, for you?

love love,


Beach stones in the light of a sunset. Large driftwood tree trunk. It begins with this...


December Wishes

What do you wish on?

not for, but ON…

  1. dahlias, when the dahlias are in bloom, i’m enraptured and can’t keep from being romantic and wistful and dreamy.
  2. when the clock says 11:11 , i pause and make me a wish, or feel the magic, or remember an old friend.
  3. the giantess of a full moon. she may be the quiet sister of the Sun, but our gaze is direct, we look at each other plainly. and i wish.
  4. the hair of my children, i’m so astonished by it, the peace i find in smelling them (most of the time, because honestly, sometimes they are RIPE)… the wishes i can’t help but make for them…
  5. everytime i’m in a candy section, i wish i had more self-control. Does this belong on this list? I don’t know either, but its in, on a technicality, i guess. (i’m always in a goddamned candy section, i swear to god, i don’t know how it keeps happening!)
  6. early morning dew on the grass, the path i can make through it, and see behind me as i walk to the chicken coop. so dreamy. makes me think of my effect on the world, the space i take up, the impact i really have.
  7. fires in the woodstove, firepits outside, all the intentional and not-terrifying fires. theres a level of humility in me when i watch, this most ancient of entertainments.

I’m not going to strain to make eleven today. I’m going to make wishes instead. I think the world needs more of them floating around. Maybe you’ll bump into one of mine today. Its going to be a good day.

love love,


+ala Cynthia Lee- her list today is amazing.

More wishfilled things. If wishes were toy burritos. . .


What brings you joy?

Today of all day I need to remember. And hold on to it in the days to come, when I close us all into the bunker. (i’m not entirely kidding but i don’t actually have a bunker. i’m too new england for that. i’ve heard it instead referred to as ‘rolling up the roads’… as in, closing them down… thats me, road closer, door slammer.)

  1. That I have a kid who likes glitter, sequins and shimmer and so it is more in my life than it might be otherwise. i love glitter. i don’t even care about the mess, i think it is a glorious mess, every time. Shimmer me silly.
  2. My cat sits and watches the birds in the bush for hours. Does she dream of capture or is she just fascinated by the quickness, the tiny-ness, the wings folded to body and flutter, flutter? if it weren’t for laundry, i might sit next to her.
  3. I’ve got a Tuesday writing group that is just four of us, used to be five (jenn!) but it is a tether to the world, for me. The world beyond mothering and all the labels that I put on and am sometimes suffocated by. Creative thought, emotion, wild admiration for other people, styles, lives. Its so simple and it’s a lifeline.
  4. Science. Yep, science brings me joy. I think of oceanographers, geologists, climatologists, virologists as a certain type of she-ro/hero and it thrills me to no end that there are such smart people in the world and they are currently working their collective asses off to try to save us all.
  5. So many people are voting. This is democracy on fire. I’m not saying anything else because this is a joy list not a panic and run to Canada list.
  6. The chimney that I look at from my writing spot, red brick, old, doing exactly what needs to be done. Keeping the air clear and carrying up and away the churn and billow. In my next life I want to be the chimney.  Or in this one, maybe.
  7. An empty dishwasher.
  8. Pad thai. Chicken pad thai. Madly.
  9. I love the silence of a beautiful snowfall. I love being in it, and then arriving home to watch it through a window. The whole of the world on pause.
  10. Supporting others. Really. If I can just give strong words of love and support to someone and see/hear/feel them being bolstered, it is a good time, and there is joy in the humanity of it.
  11. Pooft. I don’t know man. Hang in there, kids.

color. the girls experimenting this summer with chalk in water jugs at my saturday farm gig. joy.