Poem: not sure you’ll get it. s’ok tho.

Kids running, street lights buzzing- on, repetitions unplanned for. Distraction, uncoupling, loose car on a track.

My daughter cracks because mom didn’t look. How many times have I wanted to be witnessed? Just WITNESSED… i understand and it still cracks me. i can’t be looking all the time. she must learn to be her witness, and me too, i must.

lack, i am aware of how it plays, how it pays, the dividends of remorse, fear, mistake, compulsion. there is no thing to hold me then.

plenty. there is that too, and i spin in my time alone. each day making up for a sleepless night, a horrified waiting, a heartbreaking arrival. the ratio has not been worked out. but i’m gaining.

young female blowing huge balloon in sky
Photo by Gelatin on

*tried something new today. talked with an old lover yesterday who always challenges me with his words, and i remembered how much i like to twist and turn in poetry, and in challenge. so, i shared it. don’t know if any of it will resonate. but it does for me.

old dogs. new tricks. welcome summer.

love love,



Friday funday. Sigh, yep. Prep time.

Today is the last Friday that the kids will be in school this year.

They have two and a half days next week. Thanks everyone, for that half day. I’m going to make so much use of it and write a few thousand words for work in like, two hours. I love it. (can you hear the blister in there? Ouch. If words could seer…)

I’ve just completed a marathon of errands and house-stocking in order to greet the summer. Once a week they will spend a weekday with their dad, and every other weekend as well. So we are going to be ‘together together’ for so very much of it. I’ve done it before and I’ll do it again, but believe me, I am preparing.

I’ve got my beach pass, a rolling beach cart, a cooler, wait, no I don’t. shit, my seven hundred pounds of hamburger, my six thousand bags of chips, a small orchard worth of apples, a garden which will handle the cucumber/tomato situation, as well as a surprising number of red peppers. The farm down the street will supply the corn by mid-July, most likely. Maybe end July.

I’ve discovered, well, i’ve (re-)discovered wine coolers which make me feel like a fancy lady but don’t put much alcohol in my system. I’d get more drunk if an alkie sneezed on me. So there is that to look forward to at the end of the day, and each of the kids has a friend with a pool. So I feel pretty damn squared away. Everyone has a swimsuit that fits, also, and I’m pretty sure everyone has some kind of sandal. (hmm… that third kid… maybe that’s a thing…)

There is sunblock and there is aloe vera gel in the fridge. What else do I need?

Tell me, quick, my time is running out.

(and no, I don’t know why I feel like the gates of summer will clang shut on me if I’m not prepared enough. I mean, I can just go BUY more sunblock, right?)


Heading out for Summer Survival Preparedness Day. There’s a bunker to fill.


Heat, the vapors, and Me.


The past three days have been in the 90s here, And I’ve got the vapors, friends. I’m the one who fades and waves fans at her face, and I have been known to keep a tissue in my bra for wiping my brow. ( now that I have burned all my bras, I’m not sure what will happen going forward. We’ll see, won’t we?)

I just got out of a nice cool bath. The salts I had put in were a blend of green tea and some other things, so I felt like I was dipping ever so slightly into a brew of lightness for the summer. The water was a pale green and I’ve come out with clean body parts and a clean and fresh mood.

And its really stinking hot. and its only June 7th. Climate change and why I don’t want to run all the bedroom ACs yet. I really do not. I also want a serious break from my utility bills. Maybe in August, for two weeks. ?

I have these choices, and this list:

  1. Do all the outside tasks before 9:15 am.
  2. Do nothing. Stay as still as a rock in a shady section of the house. Look at a book if its not
  3. Remember that the kids will have to eat, pull something out to thaw.
  4. Remember that there is money to be made. Sit at a computer. Fingers flail and jobs are conquered.
  5. Stare out the window. Dream about whole-house AC.
  6. Worry about the summer and having kids needing to go places and eat things all day long, when its even hotter. (this worry is relatively un-worrisome, I’ve been through this many times, I will survive. I don’t know how I do, but I do. I will again.)
  7. Wonder when its going to get dark so I can go back outside again.
  8. Realize I am a total whackjob. Spent every single day of my summers as a kid at the beach. Even the rainy ones. I must move to Northern Maine, or Canada. I must.
  9. Tell you all about how much I love seeing faces again. I love love love faces.
  10. Go get an ice pop from the freezer.

Dem’s the breaks, kids.

I love love you. Yes, I do.


The truthfulness of the truthfulness of me in the heat…


Amazement, and what is pleasure anyways?

  1. I’m amazed by a lot of things, truly. like, comically almost. There are days I’m just stunned by the incredible luck I’ve had in my life.

My kids are freaking ridiculously cool.

Its been one of the real pleasures I’ve had this past year, spending all the time with them that I have.

(This is not to sugarcoat the exhaustion of having big kids home full time for ever and ever, hollah pandemica.)

2. I’m amazed that I can write and write and write, and highlight and its just all gone. and I just did that now, on purpose. It was just blather.

3. I’m amazed by how quickly my yard, and yours, has gone from simply sticklike, to lush, verdant- overwhelming in its pulse, and thrust.

4. I’m amazed by how much it means to me to have little conversations with friends.

5. I’m amazed that I live in a beach town and I rarely get myself to the water. This week was different.

6. I’m amazed that it took one smart person to make me realize the deep difference between respite and pleasure. And how I’ve been forgetting to get real pleasure, while my tools to relieve exhaustion, give myself respite care, have been wearing thin. Its the difference between maintenance. a bath to clean my body and give myself a hot 15 minutes alone? This is pleasurable, yes, and I dig it. I’ve got candles, and bath salts but its just maintenance, it is. And the reason they are wearing thin, is that I’ve got a significant deficit in pleasure. And, besides men, I don’t really know what my pleasures are, so it is a grave imbalance, my lovelies. so grave. (i’m laughing, kind of.)

But its not the same as joy. Its not the same as something which fills me with elation, makes me remember the light I have glowing inside of me. Are joy and pleasure the same? Related?

its been a year. we all know it. longer than a year, if truth be told.

The weather has turned, the yard is wild, and I’m pretty damn ready for some pleasure.

bring it, dogs.




Yesterday. all my troubles were… on display.

I had it all arranged. All of it. I felt like I had 38 kids. I did. I had to involve the entire community but all the kids were covered to go all the places they needed to in one afternoon. Nobody was going to miss anything. I was the Queen of the World.

One was going to another school to play lacrosse which he loves but i’m freaked out by because seriously, only rich kids play that game. or long islanders. anyhow. my issue.

but the other one was getting picked up by other parents from one sport to be taken to another sport and i was going to drag all three to watch and then bring ’em all home by 8 pm. somehow food was going to happen too.

the third one was to be picked up at school by me, taken to gymnastics and then the grandmother was grabbing her to bring her home and i was going to sneak out and try to have an in-person meeting with someone I don’t know except virtually who happens to be male. Because I actually have a place in my own life, too. I should embolden that sentence, but I won’t, because now that I’ve typed it, it would be weird.

and on the way to school in the morning, the littlest got that look.


She’d been really grumpy and tired all morning but you know, Mom was on fire with keeping the schedule intact so that she could maybe take a shower before the ‘meeting’.

Well. THAT LOOK. the look which means, Mom, something is about to happen, I know not what… but I really don’t feel good and any end is open for evacuation.

So, Mom throws her hands up in the air, turns the car around and drives her carefully laid plans back home to tend.

no gymnastics. no go get em. Ah. whatever.

I did go meet the guy and thats a whole ‘other post having to do with my expectations and desires and how confused I am still by my own sexuality. like, Man, my fires ARE BURNING. and, yet, I don’t want someone who only wants me when I am on fire. (no, I was not showing him any flames, but still) I have not yet found a balance, or a man who has the patience to wait and watch me figure it out, whatever it is. and take me to a delicious dinner, and walk in the woods and stuff, and laugh with me. so.

today i have another one home, different stuff. so there, plans. just stuff it, already.


love love,


black illustration on white printer paper
FIE! I say, FIE! to you and your plans!! FIE!! Photo by Matej on