I woke up with a hankering to make something. The joe-pye weed I hung in my parents’ shed a few weeks ago wasn’t really all the way dry and the stems of the cornflowers…
I have now made two pairs of truly shoddy shorts. I did not set out to make shorts with a short lifespan. I am not a fast fashion operative existing for the express purpose…
1. anniversary flowers. {same place, eleven years later.} 2. aunt ruth’s ring. {and wearing it.} 3. tiny portions of homemade jam. {and picking the berries to make it with.} 4. these little figures. {whittled…
It’s been thirty-four days since I slept in my own bed. I didn’t intend to be gone this long, I just didn’t know how easy it could be to peel dirty camp clothes off…
Last night, our thirty-year-old station wagon limped into my parents’ driveway on a slowly deflating tire. By morning, the tire was fully pancaked, pitching the rusty wagon forward like an old, loyal dog nursing…
1. these raspberries. {which don’t stand a chance to ripen before my kids eat them.} 2. this tote. {for coming with me on countless book-related errands this week.} 3. these thirty-year-old toys. {and my…
On a short list of things I’d like to do this summer is to take a bike ride to a river for an afternoon of making something with my feet in the water. Making…
The year we moved to this beach town, I turned six and my big sister Cait turned nine, and I learned to ride a bike sharing her perch on a banana-seat bicycle. She sat…
1. the very best shampoo.* {initially came without it and needed an immediate fix (and a few days with a detox stone to start fresh).} 2. this plantain. {for maybe making the insanely itchy…
When I began writing this piece, I was sitting on my parents’ back porch in a pair of linen track shorts with a loose elastic waist, a seam in the crotch that blessedly didn’t…