Barry Louis Polisar emailed me yesterday. He saw my post here yesterday and sent me a message to tell me he’s glad he cracks me up. It was like my childhood hero turned up on my front porch. I stared at his name in my in-box while my brain did spastic flip-flops between 1978, when…
My mother ran away today She walked right out the door, Packed her tooth brush and pajamas Said, “I can’t take any more.” She said that she was tired, She said she had her fill Of cooking our meals, washing our clothes And cleaning up all our spills. She said she’d write us letters With…
A couple of weeks ago while I was tutoring at the college, my blood sugar crashed. I emptied my wallet of quarters and headed for the vending machine, wondering if I would find any sugar-free, protein-laden options. Yay—Smokehouse almonds. $1.25. I plunked my five quarters in and watched the little metal corkscrew arm make its…
This quarter’s True North Magazine features an essay of mine: Roots and Flowers: Loss, Grief, and Growth
I know, it’s so *exciting*! I can barely contain myself. But to truly feel the thrilling highs and lows of the absurdly-optimistic contest slut, I need your help. Will you to vote for my entry in the 365 Days of Adventure in Bend contest held by trazzler.com before June 15 when the voting period ends?…
Chicken Little typically appears at my bedside between 5 and 5:30 a.m. “Mommy!” she says exuberantly, as if she herself has already had several cups of coffee and can’t understand my languor. “Is it wake-up time?” I always have a hard time answering this question. Primarily, because I am in a coma. But also because…