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Regular readers know that I battle with perfectionism. It chides me for what I’m not doing, and berates me for what I have done. Perfectionism is both a goad and a hindrance, in equal measure, and believe me, it’s bloody exhausting.

One of my recently acquired mantras is, “If you’re not changing something, then your essentially okay with it,” and since I’m definitely not okay with my perfectionism, I’ve been working to find ways to suppress it altogether, circumvent the hurdles it places in my way, or at least ameliorate its nastier effects.

Enter the Shakers. Continue Reading »

Pruning Season

It’s pruning season, again. No, not for my roses or my fruit trees (that’s February); it’s the season to prune my Facebook friends list.

During the year, my list accretes new names—distant relations who pop up after an auntie mentioned a connection, or a friend of a friend who saw a comment I made or who remembers my name from school days—and some of them work out fine. Usually, though . . . not.

Thus, with each new year, along with cleaning out old utility bills from my filing cabinet, I now also review my friends list with an eye toward clearing out the dead wood. Continue Reading »

All Peopled Up

Welcome back, folks. I hope you missed me (or at least the words I put up here), and I hope as well that your year-end was festive and full of enjoyment.

My end-of-year breaks are usually a grab bag of have-tos and must-dos mixed with a large amount of cocooning at home, trying to avoid both. For the past five years or so, they’ve also been bittersweet, tinged with grief and drama over the losses of family and friends.

The end of 2018, however, was a radical departure from that.

I actually socialized.

On purpose.

Voluntarily.

Yeah, I know. That’s crazy talk!

Continue Reading »

First Memories

I was three years old—it seems a world away, now—sitting in the front room, looking out the big window.

Our house on Oak Drive was a two-story affair on the uphill side of the street, and from my vantage I could look down on the massive junipers that bordered our small yard. When I played beneath them, they would tower over me, reach for me with scented claws, and dust me with clouds of pollen so that, when Mother called, I would come inside covered in red weals, begrimed with a patina of yellow, and redolent of resin. Continue Reading »

Today

Today
I turned aside
from tragedies and trials
and sought instead
quiet marvels.

Today
I heard the winds of Mars
a thrum felt in the feet
a whistle filled with loneliness,
and heard Tesla coils singing
of sorrow and shame
in a house called
The Rising Sun.

Today
I saw a phoenix
rising in auroral hues
across Arctic skies,
and saw bridges of fire
Strombolian rage
spanning the Sicilian night.

Today
I felt the warmth of the sun
captured in the cat’s fur
as she slept by the window,
and then felt fingers go numb
as I worked outside where that same sun
provided light but no heat.

Today
I tasted watercress,
crisp and green and sharp and cold
fresh from my garden,
and tasted the salty age
of succulent panes
shaved from a joint that spent years
in a Spanish cave.

Today
the world holds more wonders
than we can possibly imagine
but they exist if we choose
to seek them.

k

Today I Am a Boy

Life always has the capacity to surprise. Sometimes the surprise is delightful, and sometimes it most definitely is not. This past weekend, life did what it does best, but thankfully this surprise was of the delightful strain, as I’m pretty sick of the other type. Continue Reading »

 

Full disclosure: I am a Browncoat.

I wasn’t an early adopter, in that I never saw Firefly during its brief broadcast on FOX, but once a friend lent me his box set of DVDs, I knew I had found my all-time favorite science fiction television show.

That said, you might think I’m about to go all gosh and gee-willikers about Big Damn Hero, the first official Firefly novel.

And you’d be wrong. Continue Reading »