Elegy to my father
Born on a Minnesota farm, you milked cows and picked corn. You hated farming; that’s why you left Minnesota, that, and your mother... Continue
From A to Z
For years my mother followed me around, continually showing up in my stomach, my bones, and my dreams. She used to be a dull ache inside... Continue
Got eggs?
I’m in the back seat of Ed’s green Pathfinder with my friend Kayla, who is three, and we’re on the way to an Easter gathering... Continue
Putting pen to paper
Why write? It’s complicated. I had no intention of becoming a writer, to externalize my life and expose it on paper. But I found... Continue
Unleashing the flying monkeys
I imagine it’s no coincidence that my writing began when I was 53, the same age my mother was when she called it a day. Nor that... Continue
Unleashing the flying monkeys
I imagine it’s no coincidence that my writing began when I was 53, the same age my mother was when she called it a day. Nor that... Continue
Conversations with my granddaughter
Char Girl — I had my four-year-old granddaughter on Saturday. We’re making cookies and she begs to take over mixing the butter... Continue
Conversations with my grandson
Dead People and Sparkle Fairies ~ “Oma, there’s dead people under those rocks, you know.” I glance over my shoulder to see... Continue
I want what I want, when I want it
I am self-made, self-sufficient, and self-supporting, along with being self-reliant, self-confident and self-motivated. I am also... Continue
The Queen Bee
I am the Queen Bee. You know how I know? My friends tell me, and I also have a pair of blue bikini panties with a queen bee on them... Continue
