I Write To Understand. I Write To Stop Time
When I’m feeling down being outside lifts my spirits. The smells, the breeze, the light… Of course, sometimes the breeze is biting and hurts when you sniff, or the light is oppressive or blinding. On those days, I don’t like being outside (Read: January and February).
On those forbidden days, I gaze at photos of lovlier places, such as to the image below, and daydream about them.
I love to sing. I don’t purport to be awesome, but on most days, I can hold my own. I love karaoke and when I’m alone in my car on a road trip, girl, I am on STAGE!
Today’s daily prompt about the longest stretch of time that I’ve posted to this blog provides me with the end-of-month opportunity I was hoping for: To reflect on this NaBloPoMo, my first Mo of doing it.
When I started to get to know my husband’s family, I realized that I would become the family crocheter. His grandmother had done it before, and had crocheted the family all kinds of gifts, slippers and hats – she even crocheted a blanked for him (or his mother) to give to the woman who would become his wife (me). It’s quite precious.
It is, of course, always flattering to be nominated for any kind of award, It is especially flattering to receive a nomination for an award such as the “Sisterhood of the World.” It appears as though this Sisterhood is shared by bloggers worldwide who share a commitment to the pursuit of human rights and social justice. It is all the more flattering to be considered one of this company with the nomination from a blogger as social aware and socially/politically engaged as nida, from on the road to inkrichment.
For this Thanksgiving day in the U.S., I take the time to thank someone I’ve never met, someone without whom nothing of the past 17 years would have been possible.
Dear Angel –
That’s your name, right? That was the name you had in the police report, according to the young officer who spoke with my mother.
Continue reading “A True Story of Thanks: Pay It Forward – Never Too Late”
At the beginning of the month, I wrote a post about a sexist and infuriating CPR instructor we had at work. He said some of the most insulting and disrespectful things I’ve actually heard first-hand, in my post second-wave feminist life, and I asked for contact information for his company to give feedback. Continue reading “Speak Up! You Don’t Know Who Is Listening!”
In order to better understand what makes me, I would want to study Greg, my birth father’s, family. I don’t feel like i know that side at all. Most of the information I have is either second-hand or form half-faded memories of a child. I want to understand, as an adult, what I came from. Continue reading “Just Digging for Roots in the Ol’ Family Tree”
They’re not going to indict the police officer who shot and killed an unarmed 18 year old, and there are a lot of strong reactions.
This is something new that trying, in effort to practice brevity. Thoughts? (These italicized words don’t count as my 10 🙂 )
Privilege.
I Didn't Just Wake Up This Morning With A Craving 