I had to do my fair share of adjusting when I moved to England. I survived the culture shock and the beans for breakfast. But it was the whole “You say tomAAAto , I say tomAHto” thing that took a while. If I’m honest, it’s still taking. (Last week I asked a concierge for directions
Browsing category blogging
I’m away and the blog’s on autopilot. This means reruns. Looking for feedback on that which has none. Criticism. Construction. From the novel….it’s death and dumplins…. When I was three I began gathering flowers from the mountainside; placing them into open caskets of distant cousins. I ate chicken and dumplings in parlor rooms beside dead
I wake up at 3am. My head hurts and I can’t sleep. I watch Tony Robbins sell confidence on the telly. The sun’s out by 5. Back in by 7. It’s gonna pour. I’m on my way to work and notice I have on two different socks. Why am I wearing socks? I spend the
Mother’s Day. 1984. Of course she remembers. It was the year Billy and I brought home a dead horse. Read It: You can’t make this stuff up. We were going to take it to school for ‘show and tell’. Lucky we showed it to momma first.
He tells me my hair looks funny and then ….it’s on. I want to say I hate his jacket and who looks good in orange anyway? I don’t. Instead I give him the look and ask “Why would you say that?”. “Because I love you.” How do you argue with ‘I love you’, even when
Tall Dark & Handsome’s brother just got back from the North Pole. More or less. He spent two weeks in Svalbard dog sledding through white-outs and walking on thin ice. My mother went to Chicago once when she was 17. Barring truckers, that’s about as far as any of my family got until I started
I’m on the phone with my grandmother. She’s turning sixty-something this week and I called to tell her how young and fabulous she was. But she knows this already. Conversation then turns to food (because why wouldn’t it) and she starts in about breakfast and lunch and what she’s gonna have for dinner. I tune
Where I’m from I am from country roads, Crisco and my grandfather’s violin. From the shadow on the wall. The smell of wood and rain. Grape crape myrtles, rhododendrons and muddy water. I am from Sunday afternoons and farmers. From Sullie, Virgie and Boo. The storytellers and the hand wavers. The hush and the holler.
“I seen my daddy die.” He was a handsome man with handsome eyes. He wore suits and bowler hats and bright red ties. His boy would take after him. But he’d never know it. “A man’s gotta be in bad shape to do that sorta thing.” Darrell said it. “Makes you wonder if he hated
Ten things I’ve told my mother since moving abroad. 1. No, you can’t send me a gun. Guns are illegal. Nope. Not even a little one. Knives are illegal too. Pepperspray – still illegal. 2. Quit moaning. I haven’t paid less than $6.00 a gallon for gas (It’s now $13.) since I’ve been here. It’s
City work means city pay. That’s a good thing. This month I’ve been up to my eyeballs in facials and Decleor. Expensive shoes and tailored trousers. There’s satisfaction in spending cash that’s your own. May 27 is special for me so I’ve been liaising with my jeweler and a personal shopper at Fendi. A cushion
