Tag Archives: identity

It is the right light to be critical

Posted on August 7, 2018 by

On Tuesday the moon was still up when I walked to the lake in the morning. I was in the slot, now. Like being at the airport on one of those skywalks when you know you’re about to go time … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 13 Comments

The number 4 airshaft seam to Primrose Mine

Posted on May 13, 2018 by

I woke at 4, fell back to sleep until 5, then dreamt again and got up. If dreams can be categorized the same as data (unstructured, structured, or semi-structured), then mine qualify as ‘semi-.’  I got to the trailhead early … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

The letting go, again

Posted on March 29, 2018 by

Like the dog, I’ve started taking morning naps. One of the things I’ll miss most about contracting is these times, taking walks with the dog during sun breaks or running errands on weekdays, staying on top of the laundry. I … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 33 Comments

A piece of Richard Brautigan (for Loren)

Posted on January 9, 2018 by

The cat’s eyes have gone cloudy, or maybe it’s just my imagination. She spends most nights in the garage, which would explain the need for a thicker coat. And in the morning she pulls a pipe cleaner out of the … Continue reading →

Posted in musings, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , | 8 Comments

They know it’s time to go

Posted on September 17, 2017 by

After 89 days without a good rain it was definitive it would come back Sunday. We were gearing up for the first fire of the season, a stew, some red wine, music. We’d move the patio furniture to the garage, … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, musings | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

‘Essence of Cessna’ | on success

Posted on September 13, 2017 by

Thirty-one years ago the film Pretty in Pink came out. We watched it on Netflix but didn’t remember anything: not Andrew McCarthy’s flickering eyes, nor Molly Ringwald’s quivering lips. Nor the scene with the two of them in a library … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 12 Comments

The bargaining phase

Posted on August 29, 2017 by

It was the last of the 8 o’clock sunsets the meteorologist said, so enjoy it. The last until April 16. We went to Chris and Kelly’s for dinner, to spend the night, but couldn’t stay up as late as we … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, parenting, travel, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 23 Comments