It's Bridget's birthday today. So for her, I'll post something different. The opening of a short story: "Fold and Gish," a coming of age tale. Not about youth getting older, but older folks becoming alone. It's a look at the empty nest. I wrote this long before I had one, an empty nest that is,... Continue Reading →
My oldest daughter Riana was fascinated by numbers when she first discovered them as a child. Numerals actually. She had no concept, really, of what numbers were, no understanding of value or measurement. When she was a toddler these were words she knew and knew she liked. Funny, now she is teaching statistics, but then... Continue Reading →
I just finished Bruce Springsteen's Born to Run, his amazing autobiography. I have never read an autobiography. Or a biography. Or just about any non-fiction. Try as I might. Every new year's I renew my resolution to read outside of my favorite genres. 'Read non fiction, biography, essays, not just fiction and poetry,' I command myself.... Continue Reading →
I can't say that I remember the exact moment it happened, I mean it's not like your older brother just suddenly likes you after years of teasing and tricking. For some, sibling love develops very slowly. I do remember the night I noticed something had changed, and my hero, my older brother Pat, saw me as something... Continue Reading →
Having someone's hands in your mouth is one of the most unfortunate, and memorable, experiences of a lifetime. Whether it frightens you to death, or simply reminds you of but another tedium of modern medicine, when that practitioner dons those nightmare blue latex gloves, wiggles their fingers into them tightly, and casually says 'open wide,'... Continue Reading →
I hate snot. Thick wet gray green globs at the edge of, or protruding from, a nose will make me gag or heave far before poop or blood or bad beans in the fridge. If there is a tongue inching toward said globs, or making contact, I will, without a doubt, lose my groceries. Granted,... Continue Reading →
I believe it is a woman thing. Choking. We choke up. We choke when we laugh too hard. Or cry. We choke on our food. Or I do. Laughing and eating has led to food or drink flying straight across the table from my mouth to the face of my date. I remember this happening... Continue Reading →
It's rare here on the mountain. Fog. Not like Detroit. So many foggy days, foggy walks to school. Foggy drives. In 1979 my best friend Bridget and I drove in a fog so dense and large and lasted so long that we came to know it, and we named it; Fred.We were on a road... Continue Reading →
A quick text to a few girlfriends, and in your head you should hear this shouted like a college girl would holler: "Road Trip!" But it was "Apple Pies!" And, of course, this call was met with enthusiastic response, the date was set, and I couldn't wait to crank up my apple peeler corer. But... Continue Reading →
pocket poet 