"If I thought she'd get the story right, I would have told her everything." I found that line on a piece of paper in a random box I was cleaning out, and I'm not sure if I wrote it or someone else did. It resonates for me now, alongside the phrase "if they'll talk with... Continue Reading →
Today, I found out that two people I have met since I moved to Portland are leaving; two unrelated people, from different corners of my life. One is leaving to retire at the coast, one is leaving to build a career in another city. Both are dear to me, each expressing a "native Portland" personality... Continue Reading →
I had a dream last night about an old friend of mine, Krista. I was helping her with a move, stationed at the new house to help unpack while others went to bring another load from the old place. While I was wandering among the boxes stacked in the garage, a family of about 10... 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 →
Meg Currell 