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, […]

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 […]