Tag Archives: journal writing

Song for late March, sung from a dog

Posted on March 25, 2019 by

There was no way we could all live forever. My dog knew that by the way she looked at me when she folded back into a crease on the couch and smacked her lips; that was it right there, the … Continue reading →

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 6 Comments

Frost circus, Portland

Posted on February 20, 2019 by

Peeling potatoes I took off my finger tip and imagined a piece of it there among the red bliss skins in the sink, something small and pink you’d find on a beach. But it got me out of cooking, and … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 18 Comments

The sandtrap

Posted on January 22, 2019 by

There was not much new to the new year now, it seemed. Driving across the state, I ate a bag of wasabi-flavored smoked almonds in about 30 minutes, taking it by the handful, popping them one by one, wiping the … Continue reading →

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Sunday’s flattened head

Posted on January 20, 2019 by

On the five-hour drive to Brad’s cabin I kept it cool in the car to stay awake, to keep my cold tolerance up. Driving across the state to the east, how it all flattens to farmlands and big skies, windmills, … Continue reading →

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

The day I turned purple (2019)

Posted on January 12, 2019 by

After 10 days without drinking, the swelling in my lower gut finally went down. A balloon losing air. On Monday I was offered a new job, and on Friday I turned in my laptop and said goodbye. The January bugs … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , | 28 Comments

Launch

Posted on January 9, 2019 by

In the morning when Dawn starts the electric kettle it sounds like a rocket about to launch, slowly building pressure until it snaps free from the launch pad and lifts off. She pulls it down by the handle and sets … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, prose | Tagged , , , , , | 10 Comments

A different plane

Posted on January 4, 2019 by

Life has led me here. Charlotte climbed down the steps from her bunk bed, and went downstairs to the kitchen. The dog circled and collapsed by our bed. Outside, the wind kicked up and the rain came on.  I reflected … Continue reading →

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments