Jack and I are trying to walk twice a day. His trainer says he needs two sixty-minute sessions to deal with his anxiety over living in a new city or a city at all. The vast expanse of the desert is all Jack has ever known, so he is learning there are other people, dogs,…
If I were a dog walker, I would keep sprouted mung beans in my bag. Maybe some bits of cooked chicken too. And one of those collapsible water bowls, just in case people let us down. I would live in a big city. The city of my childhood so I’d know all the nooks and…
What is your greatest fear? I am continuing with Proust’s Questionnaire. This one is easy for me. The answer is in the question. Being fearful is my greatest fear. So many awful things grow from fear. Prejudice, selective ignorance, clutching, smothering, giving up, and giving in. All of it rooted in a dread of the…
What do you consider your greatest achievement? I have used pieces of Marcel Proust’s Questionnaire to help with fictional character development. But, since I am on a break from my current love story-in-progress and I’m already tired of writing about cancer, I thought I might turn some of Proust’s questions on myself. Quick cancer update:…
Dear Boobs – This morning’s conversation as we stood in the bathroom mirror was probably the first time we’ve shared more than a passing glance since it became clear we are no longer on the same page. It was tense. I stared at you and tried to imagine my body when you are gone. I’ll…
My first car was a yellow 1973 AMC Gremlin with wood paneling and a bad Kmart stereo. My new car is a 2019 Yellow Jeep Wrangler with leather seats and CarPlay. My Gremlin used to backfire and eventually caught on fire. My Jeep can drive over anything and texts me when I need to change…
My first blog post was on July 3, 2007. No picture. No “my thoughts from…” sign-off. I didn’t even know what I was doing was called a post. I typed— this is my very first blog entry. I thanked all zero of the people following my blog at the time for “letting me sort it…
I just want to stay put and listen to the birds, but I have to go. There are things to do and moving on to get moving. I have always felt my life was a bit hectic. I’m never quite ready. Never that final spray of perfume. I’m more of a jumbled one-shoe-still-off-on-my-way-out-the-door sort of…
I don’t know what I am doing. You’ll say that’s not true, or I’m “taking a break,” but yesterday I practiced my print handwriting. I practiced it all day. I made tea. Got out a notebook and practiced my letters. Height, spacing, different pens, you name the variation, and I was working it. This may…
