Eleventh Hour Tolls For Me

I’m trying to decide whether or not to keep this blog. Counting this one I wrote five posts the entire year of 2022. Five posts. The domain and annual subscription is up for renewal this month and I wrote five posts. My most quiet year to date. Why keep the space? Why keep paying for…

Potency In Two Paragraphs (Per Day)

Old school journaling will always be my first love but the new school hybrid of workbook in journal form? That’s my current love affair; providing I can get my hands on one based upon wellness practices but NOT unnecessarily preoccupied with goal-setting and achievement. I’m still searching for a magical mash up of workbook, journal,…

Brave New Work

So where were we? We were on a waiting list for a mental health evaluation. As it turned out, I didn’t have to wait as long as predicted. I was told in June I couldn’t be seen by anyone until September. The Universe conspired in my favor. While I waited an appointment opened up in…

A Brave New Wait

I’m here. I’ve been missed. Michele reached out and told me so. I’m stunned to realize I’ve posted nary a word in nearly six months. Nary a photo. Nary an opinion, poem, or story. Six months. In my mind it has only been half that time, which is why I don’t rely on the good…

I Can Describe The Ruckus, Sir

Remember Ally Sheedy’s character in the The Breakfast Club? Allison Reynolds. The Basket Case. The freak show. She slunk into the yoga studio, plunked herself down in a lobby chair, and immediately turned her back to the room. She sat hunched, eyes down, body language screaming leave me alone — don’t look at me, don’t…

Begging A Thousand Pardons

She said she’d been impulsive and signed up for an endurance race. She felt motivated by the challenge. Thinking it over later she said she’d better get her training started because she’s old and chubby. She started her training today with those words. Public words, about herself; framed as a joke and the joke carried…

No Good Reason

Before I draft these posts I sometimes organize my thoughts in a journal. No, that’s not true. I blabber my thoughts freestyle into a journal and then I index those freestyle blabs so I can find my notes later when I’m ready to write more formally. It’s not organized at all. It’s certainly nothing fancy….

The Wipe Felt Around The World

When my packages are misdelivered and end up on my neighbor’s porches, I generally get them back without actually interacting with my neighbors. It is a silent ritual we all observe. We all walk next door or across the street and place each others’ packages upon the correct porches without ringing bells or knocking upon…

What Did You Call Me?

The black printer was a dinosaur. It sat in the floor for four years, untouched. It was huge, heavy, and probably expensive when it was purchased new. It was placed in the corner those four long years ago, waiting for a piece of furniture to be acquired which could accommodate its dimensions. The furniture never…

Across The Universe And Into My Pants

Enchantments on the run continue. On my run this morning I found a fallen star in the middle of the street. From my limited knowledge of stellar science I understand both the birth of stars and the death of stars to be violent events of chaos and disorder. All appeared peaceful, orderly, and non-violent on…

Check His Pockets For Loose Change

I can’t write about dead food without hearing echoes of Miracle Max from The Princess Bride. You remember. The only excuse for not remembering would be that you’ve never seen it. If that’s the case stop reading now and go watch it. And by watch it I mean the entire movie, not just a clip…

Inventing People To Make Me Normal

Among elders who have reached a certain age there is an ongoing conversation about the efforts to unlearn conditioned behaviors we now recognize as sexist. I speak to folks in this demographic who lament accidentally making sexist comments, not because they don’t know better but because so many of the thoughts which generate those comments…