Perhaps she wrote this description for Those Who Don’t Know, but perhaps too she wrote it for Those Who Do Know.
You know deep in your bones that what he is thinking or doing or feeling or chasing is going to land him in deep guano sooner or later.
I have believed in you ever since I was a little girl, and I am so happy to say with confidence that I am on your Nice list again this year.
I am relieved to find, in the middle of my grief, that this wound is cleaner because I didn’t insist that he save me out of it.
Sadness lies abed of a morning with a question mark, and anger turns the viewpoint red, tips over tables, but fear sits in the corners…
Congratulations to Rhonda, first place winner, and to Jenelle, runner-up! I have reached out privately to you both.
There is no reason for it otherwise – except that I like you and I like when you talk to me. So thank you. And enjoy.
On a night in May, an ordinary night with extraordinary meaning, my oldest son walked across a stage while we all clapped, hard.
Was I right or what? You were there, words on the tip of your tongue, not checked out or bored but crowded around waiting. I could feel you.
I can’t help feeling like some of you have Things to say, but you are not sure you want to say them. Some of you have never commented before.
What can I say?
I accepted a bet from my son, to see which of us was right. He Googled the answer on his phone and then roared his protest.
I think we like our silver, and like coming out about it. Hey, we worked hard for those shining hairs…..
“I am such a smart bird, I am. Not like those birds I live with, the fat ones all feathers and no brains…”