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 →
Chance Encounter
Tim takes the bus to work every day. On rare occasions, I drive him to the office, but usually it's on my way someplace else. This morning, we had errands we had to do together, so once those were finished, we stopped at the coffee place across from his office for his usual. It's not... Continue Reading →
16/175ths
My mother was Irish. She had some German mixed in from her mother, but her heritage, her way of being, was pure Irish American. Despite having Russian and Polish lineage from our dad, we were raised in the Irish tradition, which means we were devout Catholics, we heard a lot of quaint sayings, were imbued... Continue Reading →
All the Old Familiar Places
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 →
Poor Tim
Sometimes, funny things happen that are too long for Twitter (obviously) and I just don't want to put them on Facebook. Really, Facebook is pissing me off right now, so I'm not talking to Facebook. Teeny tiny blog posts are my solution. Tim and I are renegotiating our roles in marriage based on changing needs... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 