He’s here again — the Japanese Grandpa. I don’t know him but I see him regularly at my library coffee shop. A black jacket hood pulled low covers half his face and hides his distinguished silver and charcoal hair today, but I can still see his thin grey mustache and beard. A narrow cheekbone rests…

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My daughter and her friend spread watercolor pigments, paint brushes, drawing pencils, and textured feathery paper across our dining room table. Photo Credit: Flickr user Mike Wallis, Creative Commons cc license “Mom, can you click on the Nutcracker Pandora station?” she asks, just a few bars into a Vivaldi song. Tchaikovsky must feel more inspirational…

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Mondays are my favorite days. Photo Credit: Marie Coleman, Creative Commons cc license Dropping Morgan off at an academy, I pull away from the curb and head to a nearby public library. Two stories of a book lover’s dream are encased in floor-to-ceiling glass windows. World-origin coffee beans bulge in burlap bags on the floor…

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The worry’s been creeping in again. Hunched over a library computer today in between carpool trips, I scrolled website pages, scribbled notes, and slipped into anxiety. I don’t know about you but for me it can masquerade as proactiveness or “being prepared,” yet the truth is more subtle. It’s about control. Photo Credit: Flickr user, DeSales…

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The party was tonight. It was the Dougan Leap Year Doughnut Party. Peering into the doughnut case this afternoon, we nabbed two glazed ones, two white frosted sprinkled ones, and one filled with raspberry jelly. On the way home, Morgan and I laughed and talked, with me purposefully reigning in my own expectations. Photo: Christine Rondeau,…

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