17 posts
“I asked God to tell Mother Nature to make the people up there stop fighting, and not hurt anyone,” she confides soberly, as I hold her, whispering my own prayers. “Thank you God that our house is strong and dry. Please keep the trees from crashing on anyone, keep our neighbors safe.”
I went to sleep the Sunday after the Seahawks beat the Rams, winning a chance to redo / undo the 2015 Super Bowl loss to the Patriots, buzzing with this essay idea. Football was the white noise of my childhood, a place that felt safe. I thought about watching with my dad when I was ill. I remembered a special game we watched together weeks before he died. And I knew I wanted to do the work to get this into the world before the big game.
Have you ever seen one of those ads that starts off with a supposed brand confession and apology? “We admit it, we were wrong when we said we were one of the best skin care lines. We’re so sorry to everyone who purchased our products.” The big reveal is utterly predictable, even...
Nothing in my hands I bring. It’s a line from an old hymn, and a refrain that periodically echoes through my imagination. Any Christian could tell you it describes a core element of our theology, that salvation is not earned, but is a grace freely given. But true as this may be as a matter...
Birthday Cake To the members of the Mid-Week Retreat Core Group, who have become family and love our kids well. XOXO
I was supposed to run a Ragnar Relay this past weekend, something I’ve always wanted to do. These are the long-distance races that often cover enough ground could see the distance on a globe, from a coastal range peak to the ocean, for example. Two hundred+ miles. Absent divine intervention, there is...
I don’t know about you or your community, but my community has been shaken over the past few weeks. Not in order of importance, and not exhaustive: I may not have mentioned what is most distressing you—the list of ways the world is broken is long and varied. But whatever it is,...
Did you have a time when you asked what you would do with your life? Did you find an answer, then stop asking? I thought, when I was younger, that’s how it worked. People got jobs and that settled it. Fireman. Teacher. Pilot. As a college student, back when it wasn’t weird to be unsettled,...
“I don’t think she likes me anymore,” my daughter confided after school, talking of her new best friend—the one she’d made over the summer, just after her previous best friend moved across the country. Tears glistened in her eyes, lips quivering, brows tilted inward and down. Her normally bright face looks up...
I’ve been doing a lot of writing over the past month, in my quest to evolve from “person who unleashes a steady stream of words on my laptop” to “writer people actually read.” (The fact that I’ve created these categories betrays my anxiety about being a pretender, as though I don’t count...
It’s the same joke every time: “to be alone in nature, we need all this?” This, followed by a sweeping gesture at the mounting stack of bags of equipment and bins of gear we assemble for our few days in the woods. In the bags and bins, a portable bedroom, kitchen, furniture,...
I had an order to start fulfilling the same night I had to take my son to urgent care with a severe case of please don’t let it be pinkeye, a play for the preventative doctor’s note a parent seeks to keep their kid in school rather than being sent home mid-day...
Brioche is a physically and emotionally demanding project, a labor of love. I bequeath it upon my loved ones on special occasions, a long holiday weekend or a beloved teacher’s birthday. It’s what you do when you want to wow someone. I once blew my daughter’s friends’ minds when, on my turn...
For the last year, our oldest child has been begging for a toy kitchen. Our former neighbors had the ubiquitous IKEA kitchen. Before they moved, our son would plead to go play at their house, even though their kids are younger, so he could access his favorite toy. Now that vaccines have made playdates possible...
Today’s cake begins last fall, with pancakes. More precisely, our five year old son’s desire to share the joy of pancakes with his soccer team. Our pre-soccer Saturday morning tradition, in addition to those glorious morning snuggles, is sourdough discard pancakes, made from the gloppy, sour mash leftover from feeding my sourdough...
When I see the school administrator lighting up my phone Tuesday morning, my heart fills with dread. Since early December, when we left for an early holiday family visit, we’ve had one blissful day of all three kids in childcare. There’s a direct correlation between number of days in a row the...
The rain feels fat and semi-solid, like snow that has only just melted moments before landfall. We’re holed up indoors, except for one intrepid trip down treacherously compacted-snow-covered back stairs: time to put the Christmas decorations away, now that we’re in Epiphany; time to empty a week and a half of frozen...