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that time ….
It’s that time of year. Summer’s demise. Sleeping in. Makeshift breakfasts. Lazy afternoons. Free range children. That’s all about to change. We’re heading toward morning routines, scheduled days, school work, regular bedtimes. And it always feels as if it has come so fast. I’m not drowning, but as I told my friend this week, I do feel a little sinky.…
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good words. VI.
Ring the bells that still can ring, forget your perfect offering. There is a crack in everything; that’s how the light gets in. – Leonard Cohen, “Anthem”
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just so I know
Walking back from the beach one evening, completely unprovoked, and with sincerity, my three year old son says, “When I turn four I am going to turn into a tree frog.” Alright son. Thanks for the heads up.
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then. now. next.
Vividly, I remember it all. (Sort of.) But so clearly, so recently, it was true, that I often brace myself for the reality of it right now before I look around me and am reminded that time has escaped our clinging grasp and changed our present as it is wont to do. There was a time when our house was…
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the end. (of vacation)
Last morning. Last walk down the sandy road, across the wooden steps, over the damp dunes, down to the ocean’s edge. Low tide. And I guess I just want to to say goodbye. A farewell to the beach to the thick salty air that sticks in my hair. Farewell to lazy mornings and late night swims. My shadow made long…
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Ages 8 to Adult
How do you know your children are growing up? When you introduce them to the game of Monopoly, that’s when.
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the city for me, if a city was for me
I’m definitely more of a country girl than a city girl. I need green more than asphalt. But there’s this one city that appeals to me. Makes me reconsider my hard stance against Big Town and gets me to entertaining thoughts about the loveliness of stepping off my front porch right onto a city block. Savannah. I think it’s all…
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holding her hand
I lie in bed with my four-year-old daughter. We’re holding hands on top of the blankets. Her eyes are closed, I’m half reading a novel and half gazing at her tender, sunburned cheeks. My little Finnian. Our time together is both sweet and bitter. You know the combination. We have our moments – my youngest daughter and I. She is…
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island thoughts. the difference four years make.
The rain never came. King Solomon, the weather ap, the forecasters behind that free tool – they were all wrong. And we were grateful. We held the day like a gift (as all days are). Fripp Island. It’s been four years since we last visited. And goodness, how the years have changed us. Years measured by the height of my…
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sunny days. rainy days. island days.
The forecast looks a little bleak. Miniature storm clouds with tiny strikes of lightning and six raindrops below each cloud. That’s what King Solomon’s weather ap is displaying right now. But we’re here anyway. Weather or not. And tonight, immediately after our Suburban’s wheels crushed across the oyster shells in our driveway, we all tossed on appropriate swim attire and…
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Awkward
Overheard while standing in the laundry room . . . Piper: Otto, hey – let’s put our bellies together. Otto: [silence] [apparent acquiescence] Giggles. More giggles. Exuberant giggles. Piper: That was awww-kward.
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six flags over georgia.
Summer reading programs abound. In fact, I often lose track of them. Suddenly it’s September and I realize that I missed out on the chance to get three free books from Barnes & Noble. Six Flags offers a year-long reading program that we took advantage of last school year. For reading the required number of books, each child receives a…
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it’s inescapable really.
Sigh. Yes. I am beginning a post with a sigh. A written sigh. A written sigh that implies a verbal sigh. The deep-chest-breath-in-hold-the-air-as-long-as-you-possibly-can-until-you-breathe-the-sigh-out-between-pursed-lips kind of sigh. And you know what? I’m not entirely sure why. It’s just the kind of day I had. Or chose to have. Or narrowly escaped from having. Here’s the thing. Yesterday, I lost. I…
