I don't know how many more of these departures I can take. Every time he leaves, my resilience is tested, Stretch Armstrong-style. I'm a pretty sturdy gal, absorbing some heavy blows over my lifetime. Sometimes they're clustered, peppering me with punches to the gut so fast I lose my breath. Sometimes they're bell-ringers, knocking me... Continue Reading →
Right this moment, I'm annoyed with my husband. Yes, I know--those of you who follow our story will be shocked that I ever have negative thoughts about him. But I say this at the start here so you understand that my feelings about him aren't clouded by mere romanticism, of which I am perpetually guilty.... Continue Reading →
It appears that my husband and I, in spite of our careful planning and his near obsessive attention to detail, have overlooked one of the factors of our move to Portland. All of our discussions and hand-wringing about finances (which are difficult) and logistics (not quite as complex as we'd thought) and emotional strength (surprisingly... Continue Reading →
I spent the last few days with music therapists at their annual conference. These kind, passionate people wandered through the exhibit hall, light in their eyes, reverently handling ukeleles and tone drums, envisioning their students or clients playing and learning and growing through music. Some work with young kids, some with geriatric populations, some with... Continue Reading →
Something about this weekend has hit me really hard. Tim's been in Portland for a month now. He's really enjoying it. To a large extent, I'm enjoying the freedom of living alone for the first time in my life. I know I'm not technically alone, since there's a 17 year-old son lingering around most weekdays.... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 