DIRT Beneath my Boychild’s fingernails, there is a trace of earth. Not quite enough to grow a seed, but it’s related. My manicure is also wrecked due to my love of dirt. I do have garden gloves somewhere, but I’m lazy.
feet, bare and winter-dry, meet the mat. good morning. thighs, cold and stiff, cannot forget the herb garden. arms, stretched and open, palms face up to hold the sun. heart, quiet and focused, open wide. namaste.
Ann Patchett writes books I love to read, due in large part to the rich texture and sense of place they contain. She uses a lot of words to create the images of the scenery, the environment, the neighborhood, the people… “costuming”, as she referred to it. When I write, I find that those things […]
You know that thing where you are pregnant and you start thinking everyone else seems to be pregnant too? Maybe it also happens where you grow a beard or have your foot in a cast. Or maybe not, I can only speak about the pregnant thing. Suddenly, when you’re pregnant, it seems that the whole […]