Something about that word tern that drives me to punning. Terns, related to gulls, often look as though they are up to something. David Allen’s beautiful and informative new book, What It’s Like To Be A Bird says that Arctic … Continue reading Another Terning Point
Mornings, if peaceful and the cat doesn’t barf a hair ball, mean a mug of hot coffee and almond milk and a date with my sort-of easy crossword puzzles. After I complete a puzzle, I linger over my last sips of coffee and doodle wherever there is space on the page. Here are some samples. Continue reading Woolgathering
Not that my case is unique, but during these long, draining months of Pandemically-Paused Life, I find solace and relief whenever I doodle or hone a Gerty drawing. Today I looked through my collection of drawings and found some to share. Each one addresses Gerty’s reaction to or choice concerning COVID-19 in her idiosyncratic way. Gerty is slimming down and has embraced a more active life. Is she reflecting my enthusiasm for frequent early morning walks along the shores of our magnificent Lake Michigan? Could be. Continue reading Plague Diary
Now, my days are fraught with challenges, but they all begin similarly. I hear the cat scratching at my door (husband already up and exercising for hours). I open my eyes, stretch, count my blessings, and practice a few PT exercises. I let Cat into the bedroom and dress in gym clothes or stay in my winter pj’s. Which path to choose—organized list-following or a good wallow with coffee and The New Yorker? Here is my Gerty who faces the same dilemma: Continue reading Some mornings
Although the works are not analogous, Elizabeth Strout’s Olive Kitteridge reminds me of Edgar Lee Master’s Spoon River Anthology. Both works survey and reveal the heart of a community and the relationships of its inhabitants. Strout experiments successfully with multiple … Continue reading Notes on “Olive Kitteridge”
Earlier this week, you met the Rock Giant, Enderfon, a heroic character in Where Dragons Follow, my fantasy novel #2. While he was imprisoned in his stone shell he composed a number of poems. They are not quite doggerel but he composed them in all seriousness. A good way to pass the time when you don’t have other options. THE SPELL BREAKS Away from my home I wandered afar To lands unknown, driven by quest. I walked alone armed with my mace And promising to do my best. Like boll ink blots, my eyes lost light. What did I … Continue reading His Song: Enderfon’s Lament
Lately, I have been reading novels by science-fiction/speculative-fiction writers like Philip K. Dick, William Gibson, Kevin Brockmeier, and others, and am topping off this jag (unrestrained and compulsive) with Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman’s Good Omens. In every instance except … Continue reading Estranged in a Strange Land–9/11
After reading fiction selections, week after week, in dozens of New Yorker magazine issues, I concluded that unless the story I would dare to submit were grim, tragic, disheartening, disorienting, or all of the above, (does that series necessitate an … Continue reading Fear or Fungus
Decades ago, we bought a yellow frame house on a narrow suburban lot. After living there about five years, we decided to remodel its antiquated and inefficient kitchen. On Day One, workmen invaded the space. They ripped out appliances, cabinetry, and flooring. They attacked the walls and removed layer after layer of painted-over wallpapers. They stopped when they reached the room’s original painted walls from the late 1890’s. After the workmen left that day, we parted plastic sheets separating our dining room from the project to enter the stripped kitchen and inspect the naked space. We could not miss markings scrawled … Continue reading Layers of Time, Paint, and Stories
