Standing at the Trailhead of Winter

Yesterday, I drove over to my dad's place in Indiana and spent the afternoon with him as well as four of my five siblings and their spouses. Not long after I arrived, one of my brothers pointed to a family photo and asked me how old I was at the time it was taken. That photo is my all-time favorite of me. It shows my mom leaning against a tree with us six kids lined up beside her. I am at the end of the line, with about two feet separating me from the rest of my siblings. I'm standing kind of silly, and my face shows nothing but happiness. To me, that image says volumes about me and how I've always felt a little outside my family. Anyways, back to the question of my age there. I told my brother I thought I was four in that photo. He just nodded. Long story short: there had been a discussion about our little brother and how old he was in that same photo. The brother who had asked me my age insisted our little brother was only one year old in the photo. Everyone else was sa...

I know it's lofty saying today has been the perfect Christmas, but truly, I couldn't have asked for a more beautiful, fun-filled day. Though a frigid wind blew, the sun was bright and the snow glittered. I sat for a while, before anyone else was up and ready to open gifts, watching the birds at the feeder while a fire burned in the fireplace. Right after we opened presents, Lovely Beautiful Daughter and I made our way to the kitchen to get the meal going. I made bread stuffing for the turkey, the bread stuffing I grew up eating every Thanksgiving and Christmas. Mom's bread stuffing. I snagged a bite as I made it, just like I used to when Mom made it. That stuffing is Christmas through and through. The turkey roasted in the oven for just over four hours, and during that four hour period, I made a couple of mincemeat turnovers to take to Dad tomorrow. He's the only one who liked the mincemeat pies that Mom made, so I thought I'd make a couple of turnovers just for h...

I went to bed last night with the hope snow would fall for Christmas. This morning, around 5:30, I woke up. Through the lace curtains over my desk, I could see how bright it seemed outside, and I knew snow had fallen. I got up with Ado, went to the living room, and we both stood at the windows, peering out. Snow covered the back deck and lawn. Now, it is 8:30 am, and the snow is still falling. The pine outside my window is snow-laden. Every now and then, a slight gust of wind will push the snow and an angle instead of it floating gently down. The feeders have seen lots of action this morning. A few days ago, I counted 8 male cardinals at the feeders. This morning, I've only seen four. They definitely stand out in the white and gray world of my backyard. I could sit in my oversized chair by the window and watch all day. So beautiful. Mr. and Mrs. enjoying breakfast together Watching over the feeders Buddha turtle serene in a cloak of snow Wishing everyone a beau...

The semester has officially come to a close, so technically my sabbatical has as well. The time away from prepping for classes, grading paper after paper, committee work, and everything else work-related was incredible. Not having to follow that routine came at a time in my life when I truly needed space to just see what happened. What happened was lots writing, lots of reading, lots of long walks with Ado, and sometimes just sitting to watch life swirl around me. One step I took recently was to deactivate my FB page. While I find myself missing seeing what a few people are doing, I don't miss the whole of FB at all. At this point, I've whittled my social media down to the blog and the site I post my writing to for critique. Even with both of these places, though, my involvement is minimal (as you can see from the date of my last post here). I'd much rather put my time into writing the pieces that will be a part, hopefully, of my chapbook.  This week, I've writt...

Over the weekend I went shopping with Lovely Beautiful Daughter. I really hadn't intended to buy anything, but since we ended up at one of my favorite stores, I thought why not look for a dress ? I made the decision to change up my wardrobe quite a bit: in with dresses and out with jeans (though I must confess I did just buy a very comfortable, just-want-to-wear-all-the-time pair of overalls). So I checked the dress rack and found four to try on (which is also a new thing for me per orders of Lovely Beautiful Daughter; no more buying an article of clothing and taking it home without trying it on). When LBD saw I had four dresses she was quite impressed though she did laugh at the range in sizes: one small, two medium, and one large. She's the one who also told me to stop selecting a piece based only on size, so I took her advice. When I walked out of the dressing room, I found Lovely Beautiful Daughter waiting to get in line to pay for her purchases, so I joined her. "...

So, funny story. Last Christmas my husband gave me a wedding band, one that matched his, even though from day one of our marriage I said ix-nay on the wedding band. Trying to be a good sport because it was Christmas after all, I slipped the band on my index finger as that was the only finger it would somewhat stay on. Three days after Christmas, after Lovely Beautiful Daughter and I had gone to the mall where I'd tried on clothes and walked around several stores, after I had removed all the greenery from the window boxes and tossed it to the curb for trash pickup, and after taking down and boxing up all the decorations in the house, I looked down to see the ring was gone. It could have slipped off my finger during any of these activities. Not wanting to say anything to my husband, I went about my day. I called the mall stores to ask if a ring had been found in the changing rooms. I retraced all my steps around the yard to see if I might find the ring glittering in the sun. Be...

I've been working on a poem the last four days, and while I'm making progress, that progress has been excruciatingly slow. I decided to take on this particular subject in response to a poem I read on the site I submit my work for critique. Yeah, probably not the best reason to write a poem, but seriously, that poem made me want to stab my eyes out with one of the many black ink pens I have scattered across my desk. Sometimes I just don't understand what motivates people to write what they do. I take that back. I do know what motivates them: love or sex or both at the same time. It's like there aren't any other subjects worth writing about. So this poem I'm working on, in addition to it being brought about in response to the poem that made me want to stab my eyes out, is also for a contest sponsored by the site where my work is posted for feedback. The general idea is to "graphically feature the preparation and/or eating of delicious food," specifical...