For 20 days I took an all-cold shower after yoga every morning and today, on Thanksgiving, having the house all to myself, I grunted and snorted and really hammed it up in the shower, finishing things off with a stiff… Read More ›
parenting
Second person singular
You knew it would come to this, one day the kids leave the nest. You are left with yourself and your things, the memory of who you were as a couple and who you will be now that they’re gone…. Read More ›
In the mouth a desert
I wonder where the phones are leading our kids, are leading all of us, what it’s done to us and if it’s too late to undo.
Then the mid-life part began
In a sense it is like I am not here. And that is the thing about parenting, perhaps the point. To be there when you’re needed and then not at all. You see it in the wild with mother whales… Read More ›
Saved by old times
Like a Greek myth that punishes its subject to suffer the daily pattern of futility as recompense for some trespass with the gods, so it was: not the recurring monotony of the pandemic but instead just getting our kids to… Read More ›
“True Love Waits”
I pointed out the moon to Lily as we drove the 900 to her friend Sabrina’s house and we put on the same Radiohead CD we listened to last time, the sad song at the end, “True Love Waits.” Lily… Read More ›
Postcards from a distance, “wish you weren’t here”
There is a pervasive sense of loss in all this, a strange peace that could be a kind of acceptance or another form of dismay. The frame of our worlds collapsing down, retracting.
Mondays don’t matter
It is the best day ever! A Monday, full-on sun, and I’m not working yet. I smoked a five-pound pork shoulder on the bone and weeded, planted flowers, just poured a beer and it’s only 3.
Bull of the Woods
All there is today is to take a walk or fix dinner, to take my car and have it fixed. This is a Monday without attachment, a Monday that doesn’t stick to you. And for that it could be any… Read More ›
Breaking our kids from screens
The stream of consciousness is real, our perception is sharpened by stillness. You can drink from it and feel refreshed.
Bill Pearse 