I don't often have the pang to go to church. My relationship with religion is rocky, an unrequited-love story that goes back to my adolescence. I stopped trying to get what I needed from church -- big "c" and small -- some years ago, but the impulse to crack open those dark doors still floats... Continue Reading →
Tim and I have an anniversary coming up. It's not one of the big milestones, but as we were calculating the years we've been married and the years we've been together as a couple, we realized we've been together almost 20 years. Okay, so we're four years short of 20 years. But I was hit... Continue Reading →
Tim and I are sick. Typically, we get sick separately, usually with him having symptoms and me following him around with a can of Lysol to ensure he doesn't get me sick. I quarantine him as much as possible, entreating him to cover his damned mouth when he coughs, washing dishes and bedding immediately after... Continue Reading →
As I finished vacuuming our tiny apartment, backing into the room where the vacuum is parked, I admired the pleasing lines in the carpet. I remembered the story my farmer friend told me about when she was much younger and garnered great pleasure from vacuuming herself out onto the deck, where she would sit and... Continue Reading →
People warned me about moving to Portland. Some were concerned that I didn't know what I was getting myself into, that living in this city would change me in ways I didn't anticipate. Turns out they were right. Here are the things they warned me about. 1) Weather. "It rains so much! You'll never be... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 