Tag Archives: parenting

Hero’s pose

Posted on June 23, 2019 by

We waited and waited but it didn’t seem like the marine layer would ever burn off. Lily had a date with a boy we hadn’t met named Colin, and I texted her to come outside so we could talk. And … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir, parenting, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The long descent through the quarry

Posted on June 21, 2019 by

I got down on my hands and knees in the shower with a toothbrush and some baking soda paste. The web site said if the drain had a musty smell that was mold, but if it was more like a … Continue reading →

Posted in Humor, identity, Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

Plumbing

Posted on May 7, 2019 by

Even though they had holes in them, I kept wearing the same socks. I walked the back yard in my socks when it wasn’t wet. Charlotte was up at the trampoline and I went back up to apologize for what … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting | Tagged , , , , , | 14 Comments

That last Friday in April

Posted on April 26, 2019 by

Dawn quit her job so she could spend more time with the kids, and that meant her office was up for grabs. Dawn’s office is kind of ideal, with good morning light flanked by book shelves, and a door that … Continue reading →

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Outside the frame

Posted on April 17, 2019 by

I made plans to see friends I hadn’t seen in about 30 years, since high school. I took a Lyft to the bar and sat in a table by the front, and sent one of them a text: Pat fell … Continue reading →

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

Real time

Posted on March 28, 2019 by

Probably the most comforting thing I could do was drink in bed. When I quit drinking I wrote a list of all the things I pledged I wouldn’t do when I started drinking again and one of the top 3 … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments

Regret

Posted on March 12, 2019 by

I imagined the house quiet, after they’d left. I could hear the memory of their voices as they were now, an echo. I could feel my heart pull in the way a hand contracts to a fist, the way a … Continue reading →

Posted in parenting, poetry, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 7 Comments