I used to believe that becoming a parent automatically caused some kind of permanent, impenetrable bond with the new person you created, something that made you love them no matter what. But the painful reality is that people do stupid, hurtful shit to each other regardless of blood ties, and that the expectation of that... Continue Reading →
Whatcha Been Doin?
When Tim left, I had plans for all sorts of activities. I did a few of them. I also did others that weren't planned. I killed the time. I've been trying to distract myself from the "I'm not in Paris--woe is me" thoughts that ran through my head every time I heard from my conscientious... Continue Reading →
They’re Just Kids.
I signed up for a free two week subscription to Ancestry, something to help occupy my mind while Tim's gone. My goal in this research is to find out as much as I can about my father's family, about whom I know next to nothing. My mother's family is well documented, a task undertaken with... Continue Reading →
Nesting
When I arrived in September, Tim was sleeping on a mattress on the floor, was using a cardboard box as a night stand, and had three whole pieces of furniture in the apartment. One of those was a lovely bed he acquired for Sophia (better than the one he was using, God love him), but... Continue Reading →
A Paris
Tim leaves for Paris on Wednesday. He's got his bags packed already, having assembled all the appropriate clothes and accessories this weekend. This is the Mens Trip, a present Tim's father gave to himself on the occasion of his something-th birthday. All the men are going, eight of them, one short of a Fellowship, two... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 