Let’s have some fun.

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Tuesday is pagination day at the paper. The day on which I construct the words and pages and pictures puzzle that becomes a newspaper. Each week, a tiny miracle, when the paper is… Continue reading

Shining a light on invisible illness

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This is a very personal post on an equally personal subject. If you’d rather not read it, consider this your trigger warning and move along to something more general. If borderline confessional blogs… Continue reading

Lewis and Clark and our soul-deep need to escape

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Summer still smells like gasoline from unfamiliar stations and my view of those worlds is streaked with droplets squeegeed away, line by line, until clarity returns. Every summer, dad loaded up our 1987… Continue reading

Summer daze: The kids are (still) alright

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  I spoke at a book club last week, an intensely personal experience that always leaves me feeling a bit like an orange whose peel has been partially whittled away, my soft, juicy… Continue reading

A room of her own: the writing space

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  I’m crouched on my couch, thinking about writing desks, searching for photos of writing desks, when I could be, am supposed to be, really should be writing. Writing is such a holistic thing,… Continue reading

Accident report

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My mother always told me, or someone’s mother did, “pride goeth before a fall.” Yesterday morning, I delivered the keynote address at my alma mater high school’s biennial career day. I spoke to… Continue reading

Words and inadequacy: pain and love

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I am as enamored of the inadequacy of words as I am of their power. I spew them almost constantly, as a writer, as an editor, as a person trying to communicate with… Continue reading

The tyranny of numbers: fitspiration, revisited

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This week, I wrote a guest blog for Kate Daigle Counseling on a topic I’ve addressed here before: “fitspiration” and the dangerous line it walks between promoting health and fitness and encouraging a… Continue reading

The end of an era: goodbye, St. Bernadette

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They say you can’t go home again, but I think we never want to until home disappears. I’m a refugee from a country that no longer exists.  I won’t pretend I loved you… Continue reading

My polar vortex: definitions of power

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The wind doesn’t whistle around the eaves, during a rust belt blizzard. It roars. I lay awake in bed last night, tree branches frantically scraping my windows as if to say, “It’s too… Continue reading