Monday, March 28, 2011


Just blocks from our house, the road is torn up because they are constructing the Central Corridor Light Rail line. I can't help but feel entirely positive about the train, which is still about 3 years from completion. For a long time, I didn't own a car, and while I appreciate being able to go exactly where I want, when I want, there is a certain freedom of being a rider that I miss. This weekend we rode the Hiawatha Line with Charlie and dreamed of what it will be like to walk to our own train to ride. Next week, I will return to New York for the first time in the ten years since I moved, and second only to the food, I'm most excited to ride the train (and maybe take a crosstown bus across the park.) To ride is to be free to get lost in your thoughts. To ride leaves you free of worry that someone is smashing your window while you're parked on the street, which happens with all too great frequency around here. To ride is to free yourself from the need to control when you can't control a damn thing anyway.

Monday, March 21, 2011

For the Vernal Equinox


And so it comes
In brackets and seed packets,
The even-ing of night and day
Until the dark relinquishes
To light’s burst of speed.

It comes in shoulders straightened
And heads up to look around,
The layers peeled off like onion skins
Shedding weight and gaining speed
To join light’s race.

It comes brown and wet,
Strewn with uncovered remnants
As if a party trashed the house.
It may look like aftermath,
But it is only the end of waiting.

It is the beginning
Of the fulfillment
Of hope.

Wednesday, March 16, 2011


In general, despite the measured experience of hard times, I gratefully characterize my life as one of relative ease. It would be overly dramatic and in poor taste to characterize the losses I have suffered as particularly tragic in a larger global context. Nevertheless, I think it is important to reflect on the experiences I have had in life that I think of as my own personal disasters.

Disasters lurk in the background of any life. They can be caused by our own flaws or the general forces of chaos in the universe. One’s personal disaster always lies in wait. Personally, I appreciate the moments in life that are disastrous as much as the times of profound joy and I do not think this makes me a pessimist. The times in my life when the very ground of my being has been in a shambles have been some of the most transformative times of my life and I have found that these times have often been the point when the most useful tools or the most significant people have entered my life.

Whether things happen for a reason, or whether things just have the meanings that we give them, it is the process of searching for this meaning that causes us to grow. Today, I am reflecting on the previous disasters that I have experienced as a way to manage the grief I feel. Today, it was confirmed that I had a miscarriage, and the plans that we had and the world that we built around the pregnancy has been dismantled. Now we are left to make our meaning, to grow, to build the next little world based on what we learn from this experience. I have hope, based on past experience, that what is born out of the ashes will have beautiful fiery wings of its own.

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Eight is Great!

When Ellis turned two and people asked him how old he was, he said, "Eight!" That was the beginning of eight being his favorite and lucky number. Today, he finally is eight. Being a positive kid, he figures that this will be a lucky year. I certainly hope it is for this sweet, imaginative child who taught me when he was born what it means to have someone truly love you. I've never settled for less since then.

Ellis is a math whiz, and he loves games, puzzles and brain teasers. He likes to read books that are funny. He is always coming up with ideas for things we could invent or activities we could try, and while I don't always feel enthusiastic about following through on these ideas, I appreciate his creativity and intelligence. He hates when people do things that are mean and unfair, and because of this, he is perhaps the kindest, most loving big brother I've ever seen. He is a goofball, a prat faller, and a bounding puppy of a boy.

Happy birthday, my love. I wish you a year beyond your wildest expectations.
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Saturday, March 5, 2011

Making Cookies with Grandpa

There are currently five cooks at the dining room table concocting the dough for peanut butter cookies. All of my aprons are in use and the littlest one looks decidedly pilgrimish. It's good when grandpa and grandma come to visit. It's an excuse to do special activities and I enjoy the fact that the only roles I have in the excitement are photographer and taster.