Once Pokey got through the morning sickness part, she loved being pregnant. She was fascinated by the progress her body made, the way she looked and felt. It’s powerful making that life, walking around with your belly sticking out, no apologies. You ladies get what I mean. And I had a book coming out! A … Continue reading the birth of pokey
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…
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.