Breaking the Stove
Today I broke the stove. But first, I cleaned it. It had been a while, so this morning, after I fried my egg, I sprayed the oven with the supposedly no-fume cleaner, then dashed off to work, knowing I would come home to a hard…
Today I broke the stove. But first, I cleaned it. It had been a while, so this morning, after I fried my egg, I sprayed the oven with the supposedly no-fume cleaner, then dashed off to work, knowing I would come home to a hard…
I love pie. I love the whole idea of pie. I love watching movies with scenes that take place in diners where big guys come in and order a slice of pecan or meringue pie with a cup of joe. I love the idea of…
After retiring from a column-writing gig lasting eleven years and yielding over 300 personal essays, I find I still have something to say. My thoughts range far and wide, and occasionally deep, on subjects including being an Iowan who misses Colorado; surviving marital violence; raising an amazing daughter and an equally amazing son; being justifiably angry about the world “these days;” writing poetry and plays; wondering if I’ll get Alzheimer’s like my mom and her two brothers; wanting to write about my twin granddaughters without sounding all Hallmark-y; fixing OCD-ish food; making sense of pants that come in shorts / crops / ankle-grazing / bootcut; being a librarian in public, academic, archival, and medical libraries; waiting 46 years to attend my high school reunion; having a gorgeous garden I can’t take care of; seeing a shaman; loving good men despite all the bad ones; and trying to wrest a little joy from life despite an 11-year-and-counting chronic migraine.