To me, cruising seems to be a love it or hate it kind of vacation. If that’s true, you can ink me into the hate column. This isn’t based on personal experience; I’ve never been on a cruise. And in truth, I know very little about them. When I talk to people who recently returned … Continue reading Freedom from Boredom
Marriage
Date Night at the Grocery
Susan and I like to grocery shop together. Is that weird? We sit in our family room, hot because our wall of windows faces south. Sun pours in at a steep angle, creating a swath of light, a two-foot-wide space heater where we don’t need one—not in August. Skylights let in three extra splashes of … Continue reading Date Night at the Grocery
Tumbling Dice
Cuz we zig and zag between good and badStumble and fall on right and wrongCuz the tumbling dice with the luck of the draw just lead us on I didn't buy it, this Camper Van Beethoven lyric—fate, luck, but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I. For thirty-five years I interpreted this lyric as faulty thinking. The wistful musings of a down-on-his-luck … Continue reading Tumbling Dice
The American Way
I’m tired. Really tired. Worn out. I’ll make my case, and you can roll your eyes and tell me to buck up. People have infants, or children with special needs, or two jobs, or three jobs, or an active social life. People are busy. People are used to being busy. I’m not. The week that … Continue reading The American Way
Mixing metaphors and massive thoughts
Transform from a body at rest into a body in motion. Imagine a banquet table, round, eight feet across, ample seating for ten or twelve. An array, a menu of choices heaped upon the table. Not food, but aspects of my life. The one I want, for myself, for my family. The table must be … Continue reading Mixing metaphors and massive thoughts
Calm, Content, Relaxed
We layer sensibly. Wicking shirts hanging long over nylon tights. Hats and gloves. A gaiter for my neck—frigid air makes me hunch my shoulders, run stiffly. Today, the coldest day this year. But not uncomfortably so—in the twenties, not the teens. We slip into our running shells as we leave the house. Neon, both of … Continue reading Calm, Content, Relaxed
Running beyond the edge of suburbia
We glide, side by side, matching stride and pace. Silent, except for breath, the quiet thump of rubber on asphalt, simultaneous, the steady rhythm accompanied by a pattern playing in my head. Sunny and warm, a gentle tailwind matches our pace, leaving the sensation that we’re standing still, inhaling the pollen-laden air we just breathed … Continue reading Running beyond the edge of suburbia
The Other Stuff 