This past Saturday we drove to Louisville for Matt’s last regular season home game. It's a two hour straight shot down 65 and on the way, I listened to Jerry Saltz on the Longform Podcast. He was funny and honest and earnest.
All tagged in words
The beginning of the middle
There were goats. Three of them in all, a set of twins included. Sophie took it upon herself to feed them snippets of leaves through the fence, chatty and happy.
The type of woman that wears lipstick
Whenever we move, I always have this idea that when we get to wherever we are going, I'll turn myself into the type of woman that wears lipstick.
A Quiet Place: Sound and silence
As I headed out to my car last night after the end credits rolled for A Quiet Place, I was hyperaware of the silence. I noticed every step I took, the slamming of my car door, the wind moving the bare branches. I got home and the door to my daughter's room creaked as I opened it to tuck her in before I went to bed—I died. I shuffled papers on the counter—I died.
The bathroom reader
It was a normal Sunday in October. The 22nd, to be exact. It was gorgeous out, which is to be expected in October. It's the month of perfect weather. I know adults shouldn't have favorite colors and months and numbers, but mine are as follows: green, 8, October. Evelyn and I both share green and, true to stereotype, Sophie loves pink and Theo's favorite hue is blue…
Dragons in our heads
I unknowingly made the mistake of telling Theo that today he’d have a substitute teacher.
He seemed fine the entire car ride to school, but once we go there, he refused to get out of the car. Like, really refused. I subliminally was getting more and more angry and frustrated and mean, making whispered threats through clenched teeth because you can’t lose it completely in the middle of carpool line…
Non-monogamous vegans
My husband became a vegan about six years ago after watching "Forks Over Knives." He literally went from a diet of coke and burgers to tofu and garbanzo beans overnight. He went cold turkey (minus the turkey). There was no process. Just, boom. One day he was a carnivore, the next he was not...
A seat at the table
My dad and I broke the legs off of the spice covered crabs and dipped the white meat in melted butter, our fingers covered in a mixture of Old Bay, vinegar and said butter. My nose began to itch, just like it does when I'm washing the dishes and I don't have a dry hand to appease the persistent, annoying prickle. My kids were running around somewhere, their bodies encased in a layer of sweat and earth and sugar...
Chocolate Milk
I'm writing. Obviously doing something. Matt is sitting at the table next to me, just sitting. Sophie comes over with a carton of chocolate milk, looks at me, and repeatedly asks: "Can I have chocolate milk momma?"
TV Review: "The Leftovers" Series Finale
The season finale of The Leftovers was poetic and simple and beautiful. I have not always loved certain elements of this show, namely the afterlife episodes, but I see now, after it's all over, what I think the creators and writers were trying to convey: that there are some things we just can't know, that we all are fighting ourselves internally to some extent, that conflicting and confusing and dueling desires rage within us all. That that is what it is to be human…