Four of them. One blond, a girl, me. And yes

I have to place myself first, in that dress

red, hand-sewn by the children's mother. In

stages of toothlessness they hold that grin

for the photographer. The wooden frame

made with care by the children's father came

from lumber scraps… Read full post »

 This is what he did: he died suddenly of a rare cancer. One week from diagnosis to death. His wife called me. I sent flowers, I saved the funeral notice to my desktop computer, but did not attend the services. 

Why? 

I was tempted to write this is what he did to… Read full post »

When he was nine, he wrote poems that made me weep.  

When he was ten, I found pornography in his room.

When he was twelve, the fistfights began. His grades dropped precipitously. He spent most of his time at school wandering the halls or sitting in the principal's office.  He di… Read full post »

Believe it or not, there are those who question my existence. As if one would doubt that iron ore was once extracted from these hills in vast quantities, enough to fill immense ships to navigate dangerous waters, necessitating the tall houses lining the shores and the men, such as myself, who… Read full post »

When our children were young, my neighbor Kathryn and I, prompted by two or three chronic speeding offenders, chipped in to buy two signs for the alley. They are there still, though the bright yellow enamel has faded to a pale shade just slightly lighter than dry mustard. There is an… Read full post »

You have been living at home now for six months and it has been difficult. First there was the pregnancy and then the breakup and the miscarriage and so much more and we chafed together over small things, two women sharing a bathroom or the last piece of pizza thoughtlessly devoured… Read full post »

Like all lighthouses, it was haunted.  You could tell if you looked through the south-facing porthole, there were the lighthouse keeper’s eyes, burning yellow, near the hole and the deep chip in the glass which may or may not have come from a small-guage shell.

&nbs… Read full post »

Today I set a flagstone path on my yard, cut some Japanese lanterns to dry, made banana bread, and took some pictures. Here are some of them:

 Trailing lobelia.

Nasturtiums.

A deer scare - a bamboo water apparatus invented by the Japanese. Deer never… Read full post »

1. Lingerie & pajamas. Bullshit. What do you really sleep in? 

Pajamas. T-shirts. My husband sleeps in lingerie.

2. What’s the one thing in your refrigerator you’re goddamned angry about if someone touches it? 

My stash of Brie. Nobody touches my coffee ice cre… Read full post »

No, not true. If it is in her interest to keep quiet, she says nothing. Saying nothing got her the car, the Coach handbags, the Movado watch.

When you have bipolar disorder, there are always indicators that you are slipping… Read full post »

September 18 marks the six-month anniversary of my first post on Open Salon. Or I think it does. Let me check.

Yes. My first post was on March 18, 2010. It got one rating (undeserved, in my opinion) and no comments. And then I had technical difficulties, couldn't figure out how… Read full post »

It is tha beginning of genuine autumn, and I am counting the casualties.

Today the Minnesota Gophers lost to South Dakota. South Dakota! Last Thursday the Vikings lost to the Saints. The good news is that - the last I heard - the Twins were up by six games in the… Read full post »

There are these things called time capsules. 

People put stuff in containers, usually metal boxes, and bury them, or cement them into the cornerstone of a building. These boxes are filled with items deemed significant to the people who put them  there. They are intended to be unearthed at a… Read full post »

I try to hold up my end of that part of the social contract that pertains to a yard's appearance. Our back yard, tiny as it is, looks good, as do the plantings around the foundation and  the fences. I cultivate and compost. And it mostly works well. We get a lot… Read full post »

1. Blue, by Joni Mitchell. This album made such a deep impression on me that I still find myself singing, in my head, the words "Blue/Songs are like tattoos/You know I've been to sea before/Crown and anchor me/Or let me sail away," every single day. I bought this album the moment it came… Read full post »

So this is the situation. Yesterday I did a special project, only a half-day's work or so, for the woman who will be my supervisor beginning next month. I did a good job, working with a colleague, a job we both felt proud of. We turned in our work on time.… Read full post »

so much depends
upon 

a red wheel
barrow 

glazed with rain
water 

beside the white
chickens

 - William Carlos Williams 

We'd been without a wheelbarrow for ages. Chickens, we've never had. But this poem came automatically to mind when we stopped at the garden store. The parts… Read full post »

I had been looking for them all summer, and yesterday I found them, buried in the bowels of my closet.

My white jeans.

They are the perfect length, the perfect cut for me. They go with all of the tops I have bought over the summer: the black crinkled cotton, the… Read full post »