“D. I. V. O. R. C. E.” Can you hear Tammy Wynette singing that country song in your head? As I work on this section of the manuscript about the death of my father, I’ve been considering the word “divorce”: both the divorce of my parents; and the book titled The Great Divorce, which is … More Manuscript Monday: The Great Divorce
My nephew turns 30 today…THIRTY!! I thought today’s post would be the perfect time to write him a letter, and maybe roast him just a teensy bit by sharing some photos he’s going to kill me for…
. Today my mother would have turned 70. I can imagine her at 70. She would have loved the senior discounts and taking Amtrak every opportunity she could. She would have still made long road trips, driving whatever beatup car she has at the time from her home in Clearwater to make the rounds up … More To My Mother on Her 70th: the Shittiest Birthday Tribute Ever Made.
There are so many places left unhiked. Once I develop an affinity for a place it’s difficult to make myself try something new. If you’ve been reading you already know my outdoor writing spots: the river; the lower Heritage Trail; the stairs to the state hospital; and the ledge overlooking the boulders of the abandoned … More Hatcher Hill Paw Paws, Sunrise Falls and the Graves of Anger and Hunger
In honor of Comic-Con weekend, I’m sharing a little family-wide dorkiness. For my sister’s 40th birthday party, we held a costumed Lord of the Rings theme party. A costume site afterward posted a few of the designs created, and I’m sharing that with you today, because I am backlogged on commitments right now and need … More Flashback Friday in honor of Comic-Con: Lord of the Rings Family Fun
If you prefer your Marla in a box of sunshine, this post is not for you. Close the window and return tomorrow. There will be a new rainbow, or fluffy kittens and plenty of sunshine when you come back, and our relationship will be none the worse for it. But today I’m lonely. I’m sad. … More Heritage Trail Day 2: Grief and Loneliness…and one more wipeout.
My grandma Hazel smelled like Cashmere Bouquet Soap. I know, because her hugs embraced my six-year-old self in a full-body envelope. Walking into her house on Factory Street in Marion Center, I always smelled cookies. I always hoped she had been making Sour Milk Jumbles, my favorite. The entryway greeted me with a loping wooden stairway to my … More Grandma Hazel: A Sense Memory
I was sixteen when my dad had his final, fatal heart attack. I was spending my summer with him at his home in Las Vegas. It was a strange summer, full of the awful and the awfully humorous as Dad tried to teach me how to drive his stick-shift VW bus in the middle of … More To my Late Father on his 70th Birthday: Tiny Colossus; Conquering Giant
My friend Dottie died. It happened the day I was mailing her a postcard from Viet Nam. I didn’t find out about her death until a couple days ago, when an email bounced back. I immediately sent another, thinking maybe a spam filter didn’t like my links. It also returned “Undeliverable.” I hoped maybe she … More Remembering Dottie Grossman (1937-2012)
It’s been awhile since I’ve done a Hoardzilla post, but life (and OCD) get in the way of going through these boxes. I know that aside from papers and books related to history, the biggest difficulty in parting might be with my collection of Baby Beans dolls. What you think the difference is between hoarding … More Hoardzilla vs. Baby Beans PART 2