As I wrote in my last post, this blog is beginning to take a pretty twisty path, without much respect for the standard timeline. Today I’ll skip back to a thread I dropped a bit hastily, but first, a brief recap: What do we know about this character, Pokey Mama? She came to writing late. … Continue reading bookless
Happy Solstice! Here in my neck of the woods it’s good and hot—soon to be grindingly humid, which is what passes for a New England summer. Nonetheless, I’m grateful for the extra light and I’m having that deep yearning toward what summer was like when I was a kid. Nothing to do but get our … Continue reading al franken & the mobius strip
My friend Ann told me that her friend calls this time of year "death by a thousand tiny cuts." She's referring to the seemingly endless minutiae—assemblies, field trips, special events, field days—that are used to fill up, er, I mean celebrate the waning of the school year. It's all great, of course, but kinda tricky … Continue reading a thousand tiny cuts…
I’ve always wanted to live in a house in a meadow. It’s a childhood vision, a comfort. Last night I dreamt the meadow I was walking through turned into ocean. I couldn’t go “back” to the meadow and the swells were pushing me toward the edge of a tall dune where the ocean got really … Continue reading the ocean, the meadow & the lady in the pink sweater
because—IT’S MY BIRTHDAY! It's a full moon, and I need to do something special. Also, when I read over last week’s post I noticed some dangling threads (I warned you about the perfectionism) and since this blog is the enactment of my poet/writer/artist/worker/ mother multiple-personality disorder, the poet/writer artist part was complaining there was too … Continue reading We interrupt the previously scheduled program
It wasn't as easy as I thought. You see, long, long ago, when I was but a wee college student, I'd had some complications with my woman parts that resulted in the loss of my left ovary. It was scary, and it hurt, but I didn't think that much about it in terms of my candidacy … Continue reading Week Two: Pokey Mama Faces Facts
Welcome to the first installment of Pokey Mama, my slow parenting odyssey. First, some back-story: When I turned 30 I quit my full-time job as director of an arts council and decided to “be” a poet. It had taken me two colleges, six years and much flailing about to finally get my undergrad degree from Syracuse--a … Continue reading Pokey Mama Begins
There’s a lot of “slow” movements these days, and while it’s true I’m a card-carrying member of a local farm share, cook my food more often than unwrap it, wash out my plastic bags, and am secretly proud of the occasional crafty project I manage to complete, none of that has any real bearing on … Continue reading *as far as I know there’s no such thing as the slow-parenting movement, but I made it up last night when i couldn’t sleep.