Ever in her 'getup' as my grandpa would have said. I miss my Grandpa MD Gardner. What did the D stand for? Ah. NOTHING! That's the secret. His name was Man. I've never heard of anyone named Man outside my Grandpa. A good name for a novel.
I love this so much.
E ( Lola's bestie ) and Ian and Kins and Lola. We were heading out somewhere. Ian is so much fun to hang out with right now. He likes to tease me because teenagers do that, but we can spend hours out running errands talking.
The baby of the family. Her face is immediate and yet feels already gone to me, the mother of four, it's so hard to stay in the moment because I know all too well how quickly this tiny person will be gone. I see in her my own face at her age, and Ian, too, and when she crinkles her nose and eyes a certain way she is a ringer for her Daddy.
what i thought love was is so much less than what it is
Our Pack: Dakota Wolf, Lola Moon, Ian Oliver and our baby, Ever Elizabeth
Someone may have stolen your dream when it was young and fresh and you were innocent. Anger is natural. Grief is appropriate. Healing is mandatory. Restoration is possible. -Jane Rubietta
you can stand under my umbrella
Search This Blog
"Poetry has nothing to do with poetry. Poetry is how the air goes green before thunder. Is the sound you make when you come, and why you live and how you bleed, and The sound you make or don't make when you die."- Gwendolyn MacEwen
the light is on for you
These Words are Sweet Vodka to my Brain
vodka gimlet
tulip
toulouse
toss
toothsome
tenderhooks
swan
starlings
spritz
slut
scotch
saffron
radish
primrose
poppy and her cousins, poppet & and poppy-cock
plum
owlet
mint julep
magnolia
lux
lola
linden
lament
juniper
jazz
imogene
gossamer
foxglove, fret
forensic
flux
feverfew
eyelet
elixer
crocus
clover
champagne
bramble
bluet
bandersnatch
apple
agitate
nobody's perfect
"Her looks fading, the vain Lispector became increasingly reclusive and demanding. Addicted to cigarettes and sleeping pills, she exhibited erratic and sometimes imperious behavior. She would call friends in the middle of the night and flee dinner parties for little apparent reason. She had a reputation for being a liar."-<em>NYT on Clarice Lispector
My dear child, who can tell? One can only tell that, by remembering something which happened where we lived before; and as we remember nothing, we know nothing about it; and no book, and no man, can ever tell us certainly.
Some couples don’t ask much of one another after they’ve worked out the fundamentals of jobs and children. Some live separate intellectual and cultural lives, and survive, but the most intense, most fulfilling marriages need, I think, to struggle toward some kind of ideological convergence. Norman Rush
Post a Comment