The French Were Wrong

Two blonde veterinarian students review for a large exam at the coffee table to my left. Tucking their hair into long pony tails, they discuss bovine disorders and throw out rhino-something terms that leave me in the dust. Nestled into a corner beside me, a slender woman with short silver hair and a teal parka…

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To All Of Us With Rings

Photo credit to K. Overson There’s something about watching wedding vows from shiny wooden benches in the sunlight. Grey storm clouds that hung ominously overhead all afternoon, suddenly slipped away, and family and friends straightened in the unexpected heat. The bride, with a cut-out lacy back repeated her “I do” vows in giddy joy, and…

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Of Brothels and Cameras

He sits there playing Lego Lord of the Rings, on an office chair that’s three times his size. Small shoulders, sun-kissed blonde hair that’s too long and falls into his eyes, and a serious profile on my tiny five-year old man. I see him across the room from me, and everything in me aches and…

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Sneaking Away with Him

 My moments with him look different each time, it seems. Sometimes we sneak away, balancing books and journals across a wobbly coffee-shop table. In summer, I’m sipping a cold iced coffee or a bubbly tea, but usually it’s just a hot black dark roast coffee, with a tiny room for cream. I slide hair behind…

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Confessions of a HomeSchooling Mom

It didn’t seem fair to wake them up early for school on Labor Day, after a late night, so I poured myself another cup of coffee, and relaxed my expectations for the day. This was really more of a school introduction today. As a homeschooling mom to a ninth grader and a kindergartener, with my…

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