We are Mamas
I’m sitting having breakfast with some mommy friends this morning and there’s a table of 10 young men, early 20s, guzzling coffee and scarfing piles of eggs and toast and fried potatoes, just as we are doing. And one guy, at the farthest end of their table appears to be sleeping, sitting upright, but sort of slumped over at the neck, his head lolling forward near his plate. More than one of us mothers at my table notice this, but we live in a resort town, where young men such as these tend to drink Tequila or Wild Turkey or Jim Beam all night, stopping only when dawn signals that it is time for some grub. It is not all that unusual to see a guy passed out at the breakfast table. And who are we to judge? A moment later, I look up to see this guy sliding against...
Read MoreThe Promise of a Vagabond
So yes I have this simple life. And I love it. Oh yes, I do. And I have to remind myself of this so often of late because I have friends who are starting off on grand, slam bam adventures and I get a little jealous – just every now and then – of their escapades. When the economy took a dive, quite a few people in my town went looking for new digs. It’s a mass exodus, really. The other day, I came across an old Girl Scout roster from two years ago and saw that, in that time, more than half of our sweet Brownie troop has moved away. One family went to Florida, where they somehow ride roller coasters just about every day. One went to go and live at grandma and grandpa’s beach home. One family is setting off this week for ports unknown, though I’m told...
Read MoreSmall and saving graces
Photo by Emery_Way, on Flickr Sometimes we look for earth-shattering, far-reaching, stunning and tremendous ways to change the world. Friends are reaching out to Rwandan refugees, but I do not. Friends are running races to raise awareness for the plight of women in the Congo. But I do not. While I admire them and their ways of reaching out and spreading their love and caring and kindness into the world, this is not my way. At least not today. At least not this moment. At least not during this season of my life. For me, today, I write my small words and I raise my small kids, and I do many small things that I write about here. Things that no one (besides you, dear readers) will ever know that I do. To take an example, here is one small thing that I am about to do:...
Read MoreWinter’s Charm
Photo courtesy of Muffet, on Flickr A few of my favorite wintry things: The swoosh of my cross country skis as they sail along on heaps of powder; the towering Engelman spruce with their lofty snowy hats and puffy snowy sleeves that bestow water for my kids, who occasionally drag their tongues along them as we ski by; my terrier, Lucy, in her prissy pink sweater, tearing ferociously after ground squirrels and chipmunks. Lest you think it’s all about skiing, it’s also the way my foot slides into a boot that fits just so; it’s friends with woodstoves and crackling logs; it’s the crunch and squeak of snow under my new, miraculous Finnish snowtires. It’s bustling, cheery, hollering holiday crowds; it’s avoiding bustling, cheery,...
Read MorePrivate Gratitudes
Photo courtesy of Mel B., on Flickr We have a Thanksgiving tradition in my family that I’m not so very thankful for. It’s called the Gratitude Circle, and I’m not grateful for it because it is this tradition that makes it so my parents and brother don’t share Thanskgiving Dinner with me and my husband and my kids and my in-laws’ bold band of merrymakers. No, they would rather dine alone than share intimate thoughts with a crowd of people they see only once a year. As you might imagine, in the Gratitude Circle, we gather just before dinner and we all hold hands – all 34 of us – and we go around the circle, taking turns making little speeches about what we’re thankful for. This can take 30 or so minutes, and as you also might imagine, in...
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