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Most Like an Arch This Marriage
This is the poem that Fartbuster selected for our wedding ceremony. I remember when he read it to me the first time, as we sat on a purple velvet settee in The Bookmonger, in Montgomery, Alabama (one...
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I’m Coming Out
Hi, this is me. I was trying to edit my “About” page for this blog and I realized that I’ve been hiding. I can tell all kinds of stories about heartache and empowerment and rebuilding, but I have...
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Dust to Dust
On Saturday morning, over 800 artists met under the live oaks in Forsyth Park to draw. Each artist was given one square of sidewalk, one box of chalk and three hours–the rest was up to them. The...
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It’s All One Life
One sunny Sunday afternoon in November of 2004, Richard and I took a walk down to Fell’s Point in Baltimore. We sat on a bench by the harbor and watched the gulls dip and dive around the trash cans....
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My Dream Lunch
In second grade, my classmate–K–brought the perfect lunch every day. She set her “The Waltons” lunchbox down on the white formica table in the cafeteria then unsnapped the yellow plastic clasp to...
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Training My Butterflies
When’s the last time you had a stomach full of butterflies? I’ve got a big change coming at work so my tummy has been fluttering a lot lately. I have to remind myself that butterflies come from a...
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Your Permission Slip
Back in 2008, I signed myself up for boot camp with a single goal: I wanted to be able to do a military style REAL push-up by my 40th birthday. Three weeks later, I did three! Three months in, after...
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Oh, For Flux Sake…
Last week, I packed up my office for the first time in 5 years. And honestly, some of that stuff had been with me for the 16 years that I’ve been in my previous job. I started in the summer of 1996,...
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The Secret of the Five S’s
Here’s a GREAT piece of advice my mom shared with me when I was divorced from Fartbuster and starting to date again. It’s known as “The Five S’s.” That is blatant misuse of an apostrophe to try to...
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First Grade Is Getting To Her
Some parents say that schools give our kids too much homework. I don’t think my daughter’s workload is excessive, but maybe I’m oblivious to the signs? Is this spellng assignment a cry for help?...
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