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Scribblings: Week 25

Scribblings: Week 25

Back in the day, when I had a yard and a garden, I spent more hours than I ever spent in a church on my knees. And while no organ might boom, no priest intone, no choir sing, and no stained glass window throw rainbows across the back of a pew, I prayed. I prayed […]

Surrender

Surrender

As I grow older, the mattress grows heavier, yet still how I loathe a bed whose sheets no longer feel crisp, whose scent is no longer of lavender or thyme but of too many nights passed pondering why, what next, when, how. In three clean sweeps the bed is stripped, blankets in the corner, linens […]

Scribblings: Week 15

Scribblings: Week 15

My walks through Eden, the transcendent little park across the street from my apartment, are normally in wide loops around a lagoon. But, today, as I was moseying along, thinking about doors, of all things – why some slam shut and others open, if only a crack – a barricade of yellow tape and I […]

Scribblings: Week 14

Scribblings: Week 14

The best gifts are perhaps the unexpected ones…and, this week, I received three. Isn’t it interesting how three gifts arrived? No doubt you have heard the expression, “good things come in threes.” And, of course, bad things tend to take a cue from the musketeers as well. But here is something you may not have […]

Scribblings Week 13

Scribblings Week 13

The ants are back. Which only goes to prove the profound truth of the French proverb, plus ca change, plus c’est la même chose. Yes, “the more things change, the more they stay the same.” In California, I was ceaselessly at war with ants. You know the kind—the six-legged, bulbous headed, plundering fiends that, like […]

The Rabbit in the Moon

The Rabbit in the Moon

“If you were to name the man in the moon,” I once asked my children, “what would you name him?” “David,” answered my daughter, who was cultivating a white-hot obsession for the actor David Duchovny. “Igor,” said her brother, who had recently discovered the joys of Stravinsky. I shook my head. “My vote’s for Cheshire.” […]

Sorrow Tree

Sorrow Tree

Like a tree spills sap, I spill sorrow. My leaves, mussed by erratic, unknowable winds, grow studded with crystalline droplets of rain until the weight of it is too much for even the branch to bear. Until, one by one, each leaf drops, each tear falls – watering the roots that ripple like a river […]

The Deflowering of Silence

The Deflowering of Silence

I. I don’t think I like you much. For starters, you have me at a disadvantage. I am not at all used to sitting at the dining hall table, on a bench beneath a tree, or beside a brook amongst tall grasses wearing not a stitch – not one! Although I suppose we could skinny […]

Too Beautiful

Too Beautiful

Some Bras Art Too Beautiful To the team at Natori
 If this were ancient Egypt, and if I were Queen, I would tell the priests not to worry overmuch about the cache of 
pots, tools and mini gods in my pyramid but to focus, instead, 
on pretty things. For it is pretty things I cherish […]

May I…?

May I…?

May I Have This Last Dance, Mr. Banana Nose? I cannot remember not loathing Sunday school. And much of that loathing, more than likely, stemmed from the fact that I wasn’t a cool kid. I was as far from cool as a screaming tea kettle from a popsicle – a shy, socially awkward, irremediably klutzy, […]

Fiore

Lyd and Mo Photography

Less Clutter, More Life

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