We turned on the Christmas music early this year. Just-after-the-election-early. By Thanksgiving, we’d already rotated through our favorite albums oh, two or three times? Dean Martin’s on round seven, currently. It just seemed we could all use a bit of soul salve. — My ears were tired, that’s all. In my inbox last weekend: Did
It happens every year, without fail. Around early December, Ken will peer at my phone on the kitchen counter and see dozens of incoming texts from my friends’ husbands. He’ll raise an eyebrow. Gift suggestions, I’ll say. For all of them?! he’ll ask. Yep. All of them. It’s what I do, I suppose. Some girlfriends
Mom? Can God turn himself into a wall? The question arrives from a backseat littered with cashew crumbs and flashcards atop CDs and board books. We’re on our way to a family reunion in southern Indiana, and I know we’re getting close because the hills make our bellies jump. What do you mean? I ask
Can I show you guys something? — Last spring, my friend Carly emailed me in a flurry of exclamation points: Style collaboration. We’re thinking scarf. Tassels! Monochromatic! You design it. Ethically made, of course. Want to come to India? Meet the makers? Send it out with CAUSEBOX this winter? Life offers no shortage of surprises,
Ed Emberley on loan from the library; thumbprint hedgehogs, caterpillars, fish. // Arnold Loechner Mouse, the field mouse Ken trapped in the garage who was accidentally domesticated after a satisfying meal of shredded carrots. (He’s since been set “free” in the woods, was last seen frolicing through Bee and Ken’s legs in a shimmering patch
A journal entry from months ago: April 30th, 12:04am. The laptop glows in our darkened kitchen and I hear only muffled sounds – small swells of laughter from the basement as Ken hosts a late-night birthday party for friends, Bernie re-positioning underneath my chair into the shape of a question mark, the dining room clock
When you get hacked on a Sunday morning, the Sunday of the week you’re officially announcing your book to your own little world, you feel a bit ill. I’m working to fix it, but for now, steer clear of my Twitter page, OK? I’ll meet you here (or here) instead. For fun, while I wait
3am brain dumps on a darkened computer screen. Liters of iced coffee from my favorite local spot. Sweet potatoes and kale. Trying to stay quiet, always trying to stay quiet – don’t wake the baby! – tiptoeing to the bathroom to blow my nose (quietly). Sinus infection, Wild Kratts on the couch for the entirety