Old enough.

Shah, right.

I got my taxes delivered to the tax man.

(my aunt can now breathe more freely…)

And after doing so I walked around the downtown of the small city I live near. I love this little city. I’ve spent some of my young adulthood here. There is so much that keeps changing and so much that is still the same. I re- remembered about crazy people and eye contact vs. no eye contact. Its debatable, really. Eye contact lets them know you’re not a pushover and also, if they’re truly crazy, gives them the belief that they should talk to you.

which i do not like.

So be it. call me walled off, whatever.

I’m old enough to do what I want, right?

I opted for no eye contact today but I did return the hellos I got with a hello and a smile directed at my own feet. And I did get a fabulous coffee and a breakfast sandwich that someone else made. AND I spent some time remembering the skater boys who owned the skate shop and who were so damn cute. I imagine they’re all dads now… Their store is hella bigger than it used to be, and I’m pretty damn happy for them. I spotted the restaurant that is so good at social media stuff. It was a good time. And I drove off like a grown up, feeling so happy that my taxes are now in someone else’s hands. There is a gaping hole on my desk where the paperwork was. How brilliant. How old am I, you ask? Plenty old, I say.

But there it is. I am just old enough to feel the satisfaction of one less dead branch hanging over my tent. One less broken rung in the ladder. This is the week I replaced all the flickering light bulbs and re-hung the clothesline. These are the things. And in my days and nights when I don’t recognize them as ‘enough’, there are other things too.

There are the secretaries who call the wrong number on the medical form when they should be calling the kid’s dad. We laugh, and they get all the information from me anyhow. Because I’m the mom. Women are good, and we laugh together. I like that.

My garden is growing, in fits, and waiting is hard for me. legitimately hard. but I have a thing to do every day now when I’m avoiding a feeling or a project and its good for me, and i think the cucumber plants know my name now, so we’re all doing better for it.

And I’ll be okay about the summer. I will. (just remind me of this post, when i forget mid-july and begin to despair.)

And my tax man is already asking me questions and I am in love.

I’m definitely old enough.

love love,


what an interesting photo, you say? hmm. yes. Intersections of empty. And a fairy on a frog, intersected.

Happy, like Pharrell happy.

  1. I’ve got another writing project again and I can kvetch about how its hard to write for hours a day but now I can and I will get paid. I’m very happy about that.
  2. I’m already procrastinating about said job and am going to take a bath today while it rains on my garden which is going to explode. I’m so very happy about that.
  3. I’m thinking the rain will cancel both baseball and lacrosse and everyone will be home for a real honest-to-god sit down dinner and I might even break out the placemats. I’m wildly ecstatic. (crazy rare right now)
  4. The rain. Let it rain. rain. rain. farmers are dancing all over right now. dancing. Their joy will feed us!
  5. I took the sweatshirts off the line before the rain came. While everything around me might be falling down? Dry sweatshirts and a victory are pretty damn satisfying. (small things are breaking, just small ones. no worries.)
  6. Still haven’t completed my taxes but I’m feeling great that they are finally underway. Productivity and accomplishment are coming! I’m quite pleased.
  7. This is the kind of rain that will end in rainbows. And i’m wildly happy about my life, that I know this.
  8. I have a chicken who refuses to sleep in the coop and she lays her eggs in the shed. She has survived so far, and I think she might believe herself to be a rooster. I’m thrilled for her. I have no idea where she/he lays his/her head at night. Whatever it takes.
  9. I can sit and type and look out at the rain. And this is part of my work. To let my brain wander and fill in characters and wander back again to the page. How could anything be better? (delirious.)
  10. School is out in a day and a half. I’m a little nervous, but also feel like a pro at this point. I’ve already heard the ‘its so boring, we have to do something fun every day’ pitch and it is a little bit panicky to hear it before school even ends, but damnit, they say every summer is the best summer ever, every year, so I must be doing something less than horrible. And I’m clutching to the joys of corn on the cob and kids happily playing with friends. Clutching to Joy. (my next book. HA! WHITE KNUCKLED GRASP OF JOY!)

love you,


Pharrell* If you don’t know what this is, for goodness sakes. Do it now.



I’m constantly starting over.

(Or, thats how it feels)

I’m figuring things out, and I rarely get it on the first try. So, I go again.

I think that the writing I did on ‘I want’ prompt made me so unhappy because it became a litany of things I need. It had no magic in it, it had only dreams that were practical in nature, things that are dreams because they would ease hardships, or heat-related tomfoolery. There were nightmares there, and I basically disdain any list that has nightmares on it. Don’t you? Come on now.

I needed to change the language for myself. So herein: A WISH LIST. (its the ticket for me.)

  1. I wish I could incorporate all of the greens I see out my window directly into my soul. That’s the feeling I want to have. That wild euphoric variation. (better than ice cream by a thousand)
  2. I wish I could more fully communicate with the birds who live in the trees outside my window. I’d love to know what’s going on with them.
  3. I wish I could flip a switch when my brain gets rattled and worried about all the things and just get back to the green.
  4. I wish old houses had old faeries to fix all the things. Should I start putting milk out at night for them, in case they are here? (noel, i’m smiling at you.)
  5. I wish I had more patience to wait and see the zinnias. I’m dying man. (and the dahlias? COME ON. I can hardly stand it.)

I do think that my life so far has not been about what I wanted entirely, but I did have time at college and I did make choices when I was ridiculously young, that were about my own wants and joys. So, there is that. I was a real go-with-the-flow girl and so i rode the wave, swept here and there.

When I think about wanting and my ‘life’, I really think about the past decade, the marriage and divorce and ‘when does kate grow up?’ years. I still have this niggling feeling that I’m ‘supposed’ to be doing something else, that someone disapproves of what I’m doing, or its not enough, or I should have a ‘real’ direction. (all whispered)

So. A wish list.

6. I wish I could still ride the wave, and go with the flow. MORE. I wish to do it MORE.

Still figuring it out,

love love,


****It’s the new moon today, so make your own list, what do you wish for? Its the day for setting new intentions!

grass beside the sea
Wishful… Photo by Melanie Wupperman on


*I had a writing prompt yesterday that blew my mind in equal parts with busting my heart open. I was in tatters.

Simply put: Begin the writing with ‘I want’ and go from there. Anytime you get stuck, go back to ‘I want.’

Write and write and write.

Is it because I was a girl? is it because I was a wife? is it because I am a mom? It was unbearably hard to think of things I want, beyond world peace and the perfect eggs benedict.

Have I really absorbed our society so deeply that I don’t have any wants of my own?

No. Its not that. I had plenty to write. But if I go and look at it closely, which I will, it becomes an exercise just to get through it. Filled with ‘caveats’ and self-deprecations and honestly, I am smacked. Even in my writing, for me, simply personal, I am equivocating.

I feel like maybe this is something I should stick with. Turn it into some sort of ‘work’ that I center myself in for awhile. What do I want? For myself, for my days? What feeling do I want? What do I want that will get me there? What do I want FOR myself? OF myself?

What if I look at yesterday’s list in a year? Will things be different? Will my list have changed? What am I wanting then?

What do you want? Do you know? Are you on track? Is there a track?


Lovelove, in my navel-gazing way,


*the writing prompt was inspired by something I’m editing and I’ll share it when the work is finished.

antelope canyon
Photo by Paul IJsendoorn on

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…