One at a time, I diligently pulled the push pins out of the sides of my cubicle walls. I was revered in this office for the colors and personality that my tiny space contained. Photos of my family and friends, doodles and drawings, flowers perpetually perched on my desk. Figurines, model cars, books, lamp light […]Read more "Human Resources"
She never hails me friendly over the fence, it is always a conspiracy. She clucks my name quietly from her garden like a secret, her tight curly hair, a dark comb and cape. “Can you hear the boys crowing?” she asks, a pained apology in her eyes. “I didn’t know what they were, but now […]Read more "nested"
It’s officially spring and spring means green things. John Kallas’s Edible Wild Plants has been very helpful in identifying a few tasty greens available at this time in the Pacific NW. The one I eat most often is chickweed, because it’s the most plentiful. I’ve even got a rich patch of chickweed about a block […]Read more "The Salad Days"
My grandma would have been 88 on St. Patrick’s Day. She passed the summer before last, just before I moved to Portland. I’d said goodbye to her while she was still in the hospital, waiting to go home where my mom and hospice nurses her would tend to her for her final month. The last time […]Read more "The Noble Saint"
When I was in middle school, my hobby was writing terrible historical fiction. There was the time-traveling doomed romance on the Titanic, and the Oregon Trail epic with no plot. But the tale I thought was going to change the American literature landscape was my revolutionary war novel, Eliza Jane. Eliza became a spy for […]Read more "Eliza in Spring"