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An Old Orchard and a New Year
My nose is cold, but every other part of my body is hot and sweaty. Morning runs in the winter-touched, Midwestern countryside will do that to you. With hands on my hips, I turn around and look back at...
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Urban Snowstorms and Sweet Ohio Red Wine
The snow swirls and curls outside the window, I cock my head and watch it gracefully move in the late afternoon sun. Its presence is soft, muted, and gentle as it winnows through the straight streets...
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Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries: My Show for All Seasons
My Netflix habits are stupidly predictable. Every time I open up my laptop, or power up my PS3, the same sequence of inane ritual ensues: I stare long and hard at my current video queue, mostly...
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Broadchurch: Snap Judgements and Scottish Accents
In last week’s post, I mentioned that I couldn’t watch Broadchurch because, in it, David Tennant lacked his Scottish accent. I do not like to live my life in such broad and ridiculous judgments, so, my...
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An Unmade Bed: Living the Messy Process
About a month ago, my friend Kim wrote an excellent blog post about writing in the morning. I read it at the beginning of January, on a train ride from New York to New Haven. The post was full of...
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Writer’s Block
“Well…balls. Really big, hairy balls.” I say this as I stare at a blank portion of screen in Microsoft Word. The sentences of past writing sessions stream before and after this space, for pages and...
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The Frivolous Internet Post :)
I couldn’t make up my mind about what to post this week. I was working on two different pieces: one about Daylight Savings Time and human mortality, the other about giving up the f-word for Lent (and...
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Process Learning and Pavement
The weather is finally showing semblances of spring here in New Haven, and for me, that means one thing: I can run outside again. Seriously, I’m like an excitable puppy about this–the hills, the fresh...
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Hawks and Walks
My Tuesday morning walk to work kept me more in my head than usual. As I stomped along, half listening to Rowan Williams (former Archbishop of Canterbury) gently drone on about the Chronicals of Narnia...
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Late Summer Spiders
Sunbeams from the August sun slip their way through iron latticework and stretch themselves out onto my balcony’s floor. My foot treads over these morning pools of light, and I am happy for their...
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The Natural Sequel of an Unnatural Beginning
I’ve been thinking a lot about Jane Austen’s Persuasion. Over the past few weeks, the following line from the novel slipped through my mind as I’ve walked to work, made a cup of tea, and absently...
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