Articles Archives - Page 3 of 7

The Barbie Conundrum

Ella pulled up her kayak next to mine and we overlapped our paddles to float back eastward on the afternoon waves together. It was her last visit of the summer. She will enter high school

Here, Time Does Not Exist

It’s 5:00 am. I don’t know why, maybe the light, but all summer this is the time I wake up. I’m snuggled under a quilt sewn by my Grandma Edith, or so I believe, in

Girls’ Camp Lore

The kayaks were laid out along the bank by the short dock in front of the boathouse. There were two orange, open faced kayaks for the girls, a longer open kayak for Lois, and my

“Car-Ma” and the Universe

I knew the day was near. Nothing lasts forever. My 2010 car was making a noise. It had been a good car for ten years, braving everything from the rugged cabin lane, to Minnesota winters

The spring rains came and with them, sprouts, orioles and nightcrawlers. This morning’s walk was slowed by my constant bending to scoop up a sand covered worm wiggling its way across my gravel road. Tossing

My Body is Still in Madrid

It was over a year in the making. The discussion went from which cities to include, how many days, spring break or summer and budgeting. Should we sign up for a package tour, putting the

My Culture

The furnace kicks in at the same time each morning, but the morning light changes daily. It is 6:30 a.m. A month ago, it was dark at this hour. Today, the far forest becomes separate

It’s Been A Quiet Week

“It was a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my home town,” is how Garrison Keillor – one time Minnesota Public Radio host of Prairie Home Companion – used to start out each weekly monologue on

Y2K and 2023

On the last night of a year, I traditionally write down my reflections while others write down resolutions. In my lifetime, the most impressive turning of the calendar came when the millennium changed. It was

If Not Now, When?

Two years ago, I planned to throw my book a grand coming out party and then, head back to Saltillo, Coahuila, Mexico, to reunite with my first Spanish-speaking friends – the ones that, unbeknownst to

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