Done.

So, not much success at getting startitis under control. Two new projects in two days.   But that’s okay. Because I’m done. Finito. Last paper turned in. Woo. You know, I expected to feel relief at this point. And people keep asking me if I feel relieved. But I’m not sure what it was – … More Done.

Facebook Fast

So, I’m giving up Facebook for Lent. It’s been a week and a half now, and I thought it might be worth doing to reflect publicly on why I am doing it, and note my experiences so far. I will save for later the observations on how it’s gone, as I’ve finished drafting this monstrously … More Facebook Fast

Collection

This. This is the moment I want to keep forever. Bedtime in a dark room, by the navy curtains, Nursing for the last time before you go to slumber. I do not note so much you sucking at my breast, That sensation normalized by twelve months’ repetition. What I notice most is your small exploring … More Collection

Still New

A birthday poem-ish-thing for Naomi. One year ago today, the morning dawned with fluffy snow. We were home in bed by then, napping in the moment. We made a bedroom cave, supplied with cosleeper and heater. We stared and watched and marveled at your tiny, puffy newness. Today dawns bright and sunny, fluffy clouds on … More Still New

My Life on Skates

Watching the Olympics is a massive biannual event that brings the whole country – nay, the whole world – together. Even if you are not that into sports, there is sheer joy in seeing humans perform their best. I’m sure today, last Sunday, and next Sunday, there will be many sermons preached on that most … More My Life on Skates

Bagshot Row

In the Baggins universe, Bag End is the definition of home. Described as one of the most comfortable hobbit dwellings in the area, it is the place both of its solitary bachelor residents love the most. It is fascinating to me that since The Hobbit was first published in 1937, several artists have taken a stab at … More Bagshot Row

Liminal

Fall is different this year. Come to think of it, it’s different to me every year. One year I’m sentimental about the passage of time; another I’m drawing allegories about seasons and life stages. This year, as I’m up before the sun with Naomi, and the quiet of her first nap begins while the mist … More Liminal