It no longer matters what my life would have been like with my parents' involvement. My "mistakes", in their eyes, comprised my life choices, and I'm where and who I am now because of those choices.
Boxes of Dust
Socks and Sandals, or Things I Would Never Have Done When I Lived in the Midwest
My acrylic socks make my feet snug and happy inside my Keen sandals. When it rains later today, I'll change into waterproof shoes, but right now I'm enjoying the delicious embrace of webbed shoes. There's a bunch of stuff I have done in Oregon that I would never even have considered while living in the... Continue Reading →
Home
Tim and I are busily chatting on our personal webpage, sharing anecdotes about our coworkers and local elections and recipes. We sustain contact throughout the day, touching base whenever we have a moment. On days when I'm not working, he's my companion, only a few keystrokes away. He comes home late tonight, the first time... Continue Reading →
Triage
Woke in a tangle of sheets in darkness this morning, light blipping from my cell phone. My husband on the other end, from New York where he's currently working as a consultant, letting me know he was worried about me. Wanted to hear my voice. My head throbbed from a night of sobbing, but talking... Continue Reading →
Labor Day Weekend
Remember all that stuff we packed? The POD full of 174 (THE HORROR!) carefully inventoried boxes that we set into a container three years ago? It's finally here. Well, not HERE, like, on my lap, but here, like, in Portland. So close I can almost smell the memories. Tomorrow, it will be here. Well, not... Continue Reading →
