I keep trying to write one of those “this is what I accomplished last year, in spite of it all” sorts of posts, and all I can see is everything I *didn’t* accomplish. So in the spirit of turning a negative into a positive, here’s a list of things I did not do in 2020.
It's seven o'clock and I'm completely brain dead. I can't even imagine how my kids feel, but they're resilient. Or so I'm told. We've been at this online school thing for three and a half weeks now, and the kids are just getting the hang of the new routine. I have to say: their schools … Continue reading Resilience
Every year, it's my job to pick the perfect Christmas tree. And every year for the past fifteen or more, we go to the Red Shed, a family-owned outdoor tree lot that pops up around Thanksgiving at 18th and Burnside, in the heart of the inner east side. Some years we take the kids; some … Continue reading The perfect tree
i. I see myself in the stumps and pits where trees used to grow in the absence of the white pine where I measured myself against the height of green branches that slowly overtook the front yard and cast shadows that frightened me as a girl I see myself in the cracks between the flagstones … Continue reading Elegy for a small town childhood
Growing up, my mother was the one who decorated my room. She picked out the furniture; she made my curtains (to match my sheets). She wouldn’t let me paint the walls. It was a small room, maybe ten feet by ten feet, with just enough room for: One iron-framed brass bed (twin) One wide bureau … Continue reading What we keep