I like to listen to my dad’s stories. He’s travelled and held interesting jobs in exotic locations. Then he met my mother and settled as a social studies teacher in the Fraser Valley of British Columbia, working that job until retirement at sixty-three. He trained as a teacher before he left New Zealand as a young man seeking adventure, and added a few other lines … Continue reading There once was a funeral home.
I decided to make a mix of dirt and diatomaceous earth to spoon on the houseplants rather than try and add the dusty stuff loose. I’m having a problem with fungal gnats; when you have as many houseplants as I do, that’s an issue. I’ve been using the sticky traps Doctor Google suggested, but that only captures them after the fact, and they seem … Continue reading I’m pretty sure I’m (not) fine.
My dad didn’t die on my birthday. I’m glad. It’s selfish, I know, but I didn’t want those two things tied forever in my memory. He wasn’t dead yesterday; I don’t know how things are going to go today. I love swimming. I love being in the water. As I child, I wanted a pool more than anything and I thought my parents were selfish … Continue reading When your parents are dying.
(I have plans to write things relevant and recent. I have notes on my desk and thoughts in my head. I jotted something down in my journal the other day, aided by my decision to toss the diary I’d started but couldn’t love. Happiness is a spiral binding, at least when it comes to me and my notebooks. Eating disorders are hell. Recovery is also … Continue reading i see you.
From Famine to Feast 