Cracked

The dirt road undulated below my feet as I walked around the lake. Fresh rainwater had puddled in the troughs, and I had to step carefully in sections that were peppered with the mirrored holes. As the dirt gave way to pavement, the crests were highlighted by cracking of the surface.

Frost heaves. Continue reading

Won’t you be my neighbor?

My mom has a way of making any intersection of concrete car paths that surround wooden domiciles into a neighborhood. Every place we’ve lived, she’s drawn people from their homes and connected them with the other unknown hermits living next door. After these block parties, no longer were houses filled with faceless bodies, but with folks who shared holiday recipes and lawn care tips. Continue reading

Soul Restoration

As I sat talking with some friends at dinner, I heard in the background someone state, “Great! More quinoa!”

“Nooooo! No! No! No! No,” replied my brain.

“Nooooo! No! No! No! No,” replied my mouth.

And that’s when I knew I was overdrawn on my soul. Continue reading

Egg UKO

Sitting in one of my kitchen drawers is an inch-high, red plastic cylinder that stands upon a white base about an inch and a half wide. On the top of this cylinder is a white, spring-loaded concave dome with a hole in the center. When this dome is pressed, a needle pokes above about a centimeter through the center hole.

My husband was first introduced to this item in an unfriendly way. Reaching into the drawer blindly for another item, he took hold of the object and pressed upon the top. “Ouch!” What medieval torture device was I hiding in the kitchen? Continue reading