Tag Archives: parenting

“In the midst of life we are in debt, et cetera”

Wednesday, that day time slows every week, with Lily on a late-start for school, the possibility we could all sleep in until 7:30 but never do, a day I work from home with Charlotte on early release, meaning she gets … Continue reading

Posted in death, Memoir, musings, prose | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

‘We’re a happy family’

We craved some intimacy with each other that was probably sexual in nature but we didn’t know how to express it yet so we stayed up late talking on the phone and fell asleep next to the handset, and when … Continue reading

Posted in Memoir, parenting | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 11 Comments

The clouds above the development like medical gauze papery, multi-layered

In the area where they’re building new homes, where before it was trees and native plants and now they’ve cleared it out, razed and re-sculpted it, planted new grass and trees to make it look like it was always there, … Continue reading

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Right before the storm the sky turned a queer pink

The wind came on hard so of course I had to go out in it: why does being out in extreme weather make us feel so alive (because at any moment it feels we may not be)? Is it really … Continue reading

Posted in musings, parenting, prose | Tagged , , , , | 12 Comments

‘Reentry Burns,’ coming back to America

When I got back from Germany Dawn met me at the airport and we went for lunch at the brewhouse. The bathroom smelled the same as it always did and I think the bartender recognized me, even though we’d been … Continue reading

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

‘Here always is,’ on parenting

And there was the time I got arrested for furnishing alcohol to minors and underaged drinking—and you wouldn’t think you could be guilty of both, but that’s the law. The night I called my parents late from Erie, PA (from … Continue reading

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

Fireflies trapped in a jar, the days, prose

Some of the days flew by so fast, others you could trap in a jar. They were on the internet or in your computer on a spinning carousel, going back as far as you could right up to the present. … Continue reading

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