on summer vacation and a wannabe minivan

I didn’t want to be a minivan mom because, well, duh. Contemplating automatic sliding doors and the wide arm sweeps required to maneuver a gold or blue vehicle and its pointed nose into the school and soccer field parking lots makes me feel unnecessarily antiquated. I’m the young mom, right? Cruise control doesn’t fit into (Read More)

August 10, 2013 3

grey days, always and never

I have a tendency toward habits, in the manner of forming them, burying myself in their layers, then coming up for air only to abandon all because, man, that was exhausting. Living in shades of all and never and none and always, one extreme to the other, I’ve apparently decided pendulums make thrilling swings. I’m (Read More)

May 24, 2013 31

life stories: white bloomers and mesquite

Springtime in the desert was hot. So very hot. A wave of warmth each February tricked us into pulling last year’s t-shirts from plastic bins and we all talked of swimming. There was always a snap, the last hurrah of the winter wind, the weeks we were most likely to see snow. But spring – (Read More)

May 15, 2013 8
On The Day After Mother's Day

on the day after mother’s day

We’ve always laughed, John and I, and said it’s a cruel joke, this thing of Mother’s Day being on Sunday. Mothers across the nation wake extra early, readying small ones for church, preparing for a long day of Sunday School and services, lunch with napless toddlers in packed-to-the-windows Italian restaurants, the typical Sunday evening preparations (Read More)

May 13, 2013 13

clouds like curtains

On warm mornings we slide up the windows, the front of the house open wide to a line of cars snaking its way into the high school parking lot across the road. The boys pull the blinds to the top of the bay window, the 7am sunlight on their faces as they watch John weave (Read More)

May 10, 2013 7