Giving Thanks

“To feel close to you is good.” -David Hernandez   Every time I hear kids’ laughter in my house or see Liz’s lips curl up into a full, joy-filled smile, I think we did it: we made a home.   Happy Thanksgiving everyone!      

Our Own Front Porch

The sun is pouring through the front window and I’m trying to figure out what to write. I have little time. I’m working at the bookstore today. I’ve tried reading to see if it spurs me to write something interesting. I’ve read some great lines that I wish I wrote. I see time running out […]

Stretch

Decades ago, a friend gave me a bookmark that read: “Stretch yourself for greatness and for height.” (George Chapman, perhaps?) Lately I’ve been stretching myself. I’m not taller. And I think this stretching means I have more deadlines. Which means I’m tired. I’m writing this blog before I turn to more work. Prepping for the […]

My Beauty Uniform

My Beauty Uniform is a stretched-out sweater, pilling everywhere, light brown to highlight my fine-tresses. My Beauty Uniform is capturing your joy, the way your smile starts slow, slow enough that only I know you might flash a grin that makes people who think they know you take a closer look. My Beauty Uniform is […]

The days shorten, the deadlines thicken.

The days shorten, the deadlines thicken. Make haste while it doesn’t rain. Relish the crush of the leaves underneath feet. The days shorten, the deadlines thicken. A crash: the shower curtain gives up its elasticity forever. The leaves ground into carpet, the vacuum cleaner waiting. The days shorten, the deadlines thicken. I wake early, write […]

A New Fixed Place

A New Fixed Place by Nancy Schatz Alton I still see you in your broad striped onesie, blue & minty green watch you roll across the wood floor: you propel yourself where you want to go.   I read that I was your fixed place. Slowly, I am no-longer-your-fixed place. You are becoming your own […]

Hummingbirds & Hips

Hummingbirds & hips by Nancy Schatz Alton My left hip holds the unnameable; the nerves that pulse here stop me from running & yet these strong legs still hold me up (like the tree trunk out front that refuses to die) & bring me to windows to spy hummingbirds.   I have a feeling these […]