TribeWritingBook ClubGiveawayTravelMisc

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 […]