School in the mornings, play in the afternoons, writing at night after everyone else has fallen asleep, so the days pass here. Our days have found a new rhythm that quite resembles the old…well, except for the sun. The new kitchen and dining room get lots and lots of delicious morning sun. I love nothing more than to sit in it and bake my poor bones, made frigid by five...
I know I reeked of cigarette smoke. My second-hand pants were inches too short, my hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail by a 48 year-old father new to single parenthood, and my nails were bitten to the quick. But that Santa pulled me in tight anyways and hugged me close, and he smelled of cinnamon, and butter cookies, and reindeer feed.
I do like this time of year, when the outside colors are shifting from vibrance to reserve, diving deeper down into their end season. I, for one, think grays and browns are quite lovely, and bittersweet.
I water my garden every morning. When I’m finished, I sit on my front steps, tuck my hands between my knees for warmth, and listen. The water makes a crackling noise as it seeps into the concrete at my feet. If the windows of the passing cars are open, which they often are, I can make out the wax and wane of NPR or Coldplay or Taylor Swift, or an...
When I am forty nine years old, I will still fit into my size two jeans. I will look hot in my reading glasses. I will know more about wine, history and Latin than I do now. I will be slow to speak and slow to anger. I will finally have stopped biting my nails. I will live in a smallish house built in a clearing in the woods somewhere...
I sit down at the table with a perfect cup of coffee: a preheated mug filled three-quarters of the way with Freedom of Espresso’s organic blend, finished off with really long pours of both white sugar and heavy cream. As I take my first, second, and third sips of the morning, I can feel my mood lift from conscious to maniacally chipper. High on caffeine and eager for conversation, I...
I want to need to remember: :: a pod of dolphins hunting for their breakfast in the waters across the cove :: the smell of laundry that has dried in the salty bay air :: laughing and carrying on with old friends over wine and clams casino :: a funky haircut that heralds a new season in my life :: rounded triangles of moonlight reflected off the backs of thousands...