Musings & News

November 1, 2013

A Thousand Hearts

Despite the fact that my eyes look in two separate directions, or perhaps because of it, I am always searching the fabric of the seen for the unseen. I look to the corners of reality to see what might be hidden there. My gaze seeks to penetrate the ordinary in hopes of glimpsing something of the extraordinary. And often, the extraordinary is found right there, right inside the ordinary, waiting to be noticed. A tulip opening its petals, a lightning storm, a newborn sparrow emerging from an egg, these things beg my attention. I’m usually the one outside in the […]

August 5, 2013

We’re Still Here

We’re still here. Izzy’s still here. I’m still here. I don’t know how it’s happened, but I’m grateful. In October, doctors told us she’d already passed her expiration date, and though she could surprise us, it wasn’t likely. We prepared to fully live every day we had left, and started this blog to count her days, and to make sure her days count. And then suddenly and out of nowhere, our family was struck with another tragedy. My sister Robin was infected with a rare bacteria after a minor family dog bite and life was thrown into chaos. My every […]

July 7, 2013

New Haircut

Izzy has a new haircut. Where else to celebrate that than at the coffee shop? With an Iced Italian Cream Soda! Izzy loves the whipped cream. Look mom, I have a neck! Who knew?

May 1, 2013

Ten Years Drunk

“you surround me” “you complete me” “you had me at hello” fuck that shit it’s as simple as this: your soul looked like a plate of chocolate chip cookies wrapped up in devils cake with whipped cream and a side of orgasm i didn’t nibble politely and push away from the table no i scarfed you up scrumptious shoved face first into your deliciousness til my chin and my whole life looked like an ad for slutty betty crocker i feasted on your fairy tale and reveled in your never lands til the insides of my mouth were raw and […]

April 14, 2013

Feed the Truth

So I’m standing outside yesterday having a tiff with my roomie Deb. She’s about to repot the spearmint plants that were given to us the night before by a friendly neighbor. I’m in the middle of a juice fast, and want her to make her famous watermelon juice, so I’ve gone outside to offer my support in the repotting process. I’ve also gone outside to whine. “If I start the soil in the pots will you go make juice? Please oh pleeaaase?” She looks at me with exasperation. I know that look. It’s a you-were-the-one-who-insisted-these-plants-get-potted-today-in-fact-right-now-so-you’ve-got-some-nerve-asking-me-to-do-something-else-when-I’ve-already-started-this-project-at-your-request kind of look. She breathes heavy, […]

April 8, 2013

Isabella’s Rainbow

Izzabella’s Rainbow Red Roses Style. With Annotations. roses are red violets are blue izzy is freckled and smells like the dew (‘cept her breath, which smells like black plague.) cookie’s a monster and kermit is green izzy likes ankles if you know what i mean (she doesn’t bite. but she likes to hump.) oranges are orange lilies are white izzy’s like wind and my heart is a kite (‘cept when she breaks wind. then my heart is a gas mask.) bananas are yellow purples are plum izzy’s a howler we make great singing’ chums (‘cept when we’re off key, then […]

April 7, 2013

Scenes from a Coffee Shop

Izzy and I are no strangers to coffee shops. Most mornings we go over to see Kit and Carol at Coffee Cats in downtown Taos. For three years we’ve been sitting at the same blue table, on the same white bench, gazing out the same glass windows over the same trees, sometimes green and pliant, sometimes yellow and quivering, sometimes bare and achingly still. Those trees, we know them from root to branch as they converse with us on the wind through the open window. Izzy lifts her head to sniff out tidings carried on the breeze: of sap and […]

December 8, 2012

Pomegranates for Persephone

It’s over. But I’m in shock. It’s final. But I can’t really comprehend. This is the day of closing. The house that gave birth to Duirwaigh, that nested our dreams and hopes and wild ambitions, the house that contained a thousand shades of laughter and tears and sighs, the house where I first tangoed with my husband and cradled the four-footed loves of my life… The house that later caused one hundred nightmares of things-gone-wrong, the house that eventually became the neglected, empty and sagging, an albatross around my neck, has moved into glorious new, caring hands. I’m not there […]

November 12, 2012

This Right Here

“All of life is saying goodbye.” I’m musing on that quote, and Izzy’s nebulous prognosis, as we climb into the car. We’re headed to the park for our ritual morning walk, and the sky is big and cloudless, mocking my shadowed thoughts. Its true blue light fills the heart with enough helium to make it burst from happiness. Izzy’s nose and paws are out the car window, sniffing up the sunshine and sage. It’s that simple for her. Look at this. Smell that. Sit on the lap and enjoy the ride. The feel of her snuggled between me and the […]

October 8, 2012

Becoming the Water

It was an old and beautiful library that smelled faintly of cedar and Charles Dickens. Books on the walls, deep, velvet cushioned chairs and couches, the whole place softly lit with deep thoughts. It was the final day of autobiography class with a dynamic and highly sought-after professor. Each of us had ten minutes to read from our final essay paper. An hour into it, a woman in her late 20’s with a soft smile and 80’s hangover perm began reading about ducks on a pond. She must have been good, because I could see the dust motes swirling in […]

October 5, 2012

I Know This is Goodbye

On the outside I looked normal, but my heart was jagged and bleeding, and my days were one long continuous sigh. It was Tori Amos I listened to in 1996 to ease the ache of a heartbreaking separation. She sang words written in my chest, under the disguise of normal: I go from day to day I know where the cupboards are I know where the car is parked I know he isn’t you. And here I am 16 years later sitting at a coffee shop cloaked in normal. Wake up. Take Izzy to the park. She reads the tree-mail […]

March 7, 2012

Aimless Love – an Exercise

“But my heart is always propped up in a field on its tripod ready for the next arrow.” — Billy Collins, “Aimless Love” Aimless Love, An Exercise I’ve borrowed this writing prompt from brilliant author Cate DiCamillo, who was inspired to create this writing exercise based on the Billy Collins poem. I find it a shining portal to imagining. My answers are below, but if you’d like to play along, here’s how it goes: Imagine your heart as a target in a field. Begin by describing the field. Describe the tripod. Describe your heart. Name the arrows. Describe the sound the […]