Those petty, pernicious forms of hatred were woven into the fabric of our upbringing. Though my parents did their best to undo it we learned cruelty early on, it was in our DNA, and there was always someone to make fun of or put down to make us feel more powerful.
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.
The stream of consciousness is real, our perception is sharpened by stillness. You can drink from it and feel refreshed.
Dad retreats to the den while the chicken marinates, lights a stick of incense, and helps the dog get a bone out of the basket.
In the early morning before the sun comes up we sit in the dark with a candle and our coffees and ask how the other one slept. Letting the dog out and standing in the fog, hurrying back in beneath… Read More ›
It is a small but very precious part of me hanging in our front window.
Lily, born today and growing up in that little house in West Seattle behind the Sub Shop #9 and the corner bar we never once visited, Chuck and Sally’s.