On Candy Canes and Existential Dread

I have a method for eating candy canes, and it’s not good but it’s mine and I’m keeping it.

Objectively, I understand the best, tidiest, most prolonged way to eat a candy cane is to start at the bottom of the shepherd’s crook–where the cane would strike the earth were it used for walking rocky hills searching for green bits and water. You cut the plastic there with scissors if you’re civilized or tear it with you’re teeth if you’re a savage and unwrap enough to suck slowly, twisting the cane in circles to create a spear. You test the point again and again until it’s a shiv, and then you stab whoever’s stupid enough to wander close even though they can see with their own eyeballs that you’re eating a candy cane. Then–and only then–you can crunch the tip between your teeth, unwrap a bit more, and begin the process anew. The tricky bit comes, as it does in life, with the change of direction. The turn. The bend.  Because the circular suck is impeded by your face. Here is where you’re allowed to veer from the Best Way and express your own creativity. Dealer’s choice. ...  read more

12 May 2020 — The COVID Diaries: Staying Sane in a Time That’s Not

Dear Diary,

This is Hazel.

She’s the one in the middle, bookended by my dogs, Zoey and Nyx.

I found Hazel on my porch today, just sitting like a good girl, patiently waiting to be let in so she could play with her friends.

Hazel, of course, wasn’t supposed to come over.

Hazel was supposed to stay home.

Hazel was self-isolating with her family, nine houses away from mine. ...  read more

May the Fourth Be With You — The COVID Diaries: Staying Sane in a Time That’s Not

Dear Diary,

Briefest of all possible entries today because a) I went grocery shopping which was exhausting in the Before Times and is all consuming now that we live in the After Time, so I’m pooped, and b) it’s my kids’ 17th Gotcha Day (aka, adoption day) so I’ll be spending the rest of the day celebrating. While sitting on my butt. Probably with a beer. And some ibuprofen. ‘Cause I know how to party, man. ...  read more

These Are Our Consecutive Weeks of Unprotected Grinding

This isn’t a real post.

This is a check-in because I haven’t written a real post.

In brief, here’s what’s happening around our house:

1. I’m writing. All the words. All the time. Morning ‘til night. Weekdays and weekends. Just writing and writing and writing. More soon.

2. The dog ate Greg’s dental night guards a couple weeks ago and it’ll be at least one more before he gets the replacements. That means all I’ve heard and will hear for the foreseeable future is that these are our Consecutive Weeks of Unprotected Grinding. ...  read more

Why I’m Mad at Greg — and Thoughts on Whether Cat Butter is Humane

I woke up with a sick feeling in my gut. You know that foggy state of Near Awake when you viscerally remember Something’s Amiss but you don’t yet have the mental faculties to remember What Exactly Happened? It was That. I woke up sad and somehow lonely. I knew, at least, No One Had Died, so thank God for that. That Feeling is more Charcoal and Ash Grey, like sticky soot on the gut. No, this was different. I was just Hurt. Like the way your heart falls on top of your stomach when someone who loves you is thoughtless or cruel in a way that’s impossible to understand.  ...  read more

New Teeth! Hot or Not? (Hint: HOT. Obviously.)

Hello, lovelies!

Just a very quick update from me (even though I’m behind on telling you ALL THE THINGS, which I hope to fix soon) because TODAY was Phase One for NEW TEETH.

NEW TEETH.

All for ME!

Strictly speaking, having one’s face mauled by a dog in early childhood has its downsides. Reconstructive surgeries starting at age two. Plastic surgeries starting at seven. Oral surgery, braces more than once, and five fake teeth installed 30 years ago that have aged about as well as you’d expect. Those things were… less than pleasant. ...  read more

A Haphazard Series of Brief (or not) Thoughts, Part 1

I left my house at 3am today, the first of 20+ days of travel this month, home after this only for farm work days every Saturday I can manage to be there. Farms, man; they’re a lot of work. But there’s so much clean air out there — and constant earth magic — so the trade-off will do. 

{Gotta say, though, Dax Shepard’s new sitcom, Bless This Mess, about a couple with less than zero farm experience (I mean it — mathematically negative farm skills) giving up their NYC life for a barren bit of land in Nebraska is cracking us up. It feels very REAL LIFE to us right now, minus barren/Nebraska, plus blackberries/Oregon.}  ...  read more