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Category Archives: Reflection
I know. I’ve been mighty silent. Writing is hard for me. Always has been. Lay a new full-time high school teaching job on top, and well, you get the picture. But I am surfacing. Honestly, I’ve never slept better. It’s … Continue reading
Friends, These last two weeks, I’ve jumped into a new teaching job. I’m teaching college writing to seniors at Oxford High School in Oxford, Mississippi. I’m beat! A week of training. Everything is online, multiple programs to learn, new building, … Continue reading
Good Morning, Friends, Here’s a little piece I worked on this morning: Hawk Baritone Tom Paul, asks me, “Did you know Jan was fascinated by Osprey?” I shake my head no. “She loved them.” I find this question scribbled … Continue reading
Dawn was once a popular name. I don’t know anyone naming their daughters this today. There are four Dawn’s from all around the country still in my life, all born within years of me in 1962. It was once a … Continue reading
We have a lot of catching up to do, Friends. I’ve done it. I’ve moved myself, my books and art and bicycle to the South. And I’m happy. I’ve been in this rambling old house for a little over a … Continue reading
I’ve got a lot on my mind, Friends. I have friends who marched in Washington yesterday for the environment. One tells me today she is beleaguered by all she heard on the streets. It’s bad. To be in Washington now … Continue reading
Friends, Providence. Chaos. The wherewithal to slow down–stop–listen. No matter. I am here now, and this happening. I’ve been in North Mississippi since March 27. My 86-year-old father has been diagnosed, cut on, and is back home in his cabin … Continue reading
I’m back, Friends! Sorta. My trip to Belize pushed me in so many ways; I was sick with the flu when I left the US, and once there, I had two falls, one bad enough to leave me with bruised … Continue reading
Back in November, during my third visit to the beautiful home she once shared with Phil West on the Hudson, Carole Cowan and I found more treasure in the attic. After all these years, I’d hoped there was more to … Continue reading