When I tell people I want to live in a school bus after I retire, reactions run the gamut. But it’s OK. I’ve already driven a bus – the bus I was riding home from school one Spring day in 1972, in 9th Grade. I wasn’t supervised at all, but only watched by the laughing and licensed bus driver who gave me her seat so that I could drive my own bus down my own street. Continue reading “Stop for Flashing Lights”
It would be nice if life brought to us challenges in neat packages: “Deal with this, and when you’re done I’ll bring you something new to test out.” Our school days (and years) are organized along these lines.
But the events and issues on our timelines overlap and circle around and sometimes travel against time and double up and triple up and overwhelm us and trip us up when they can. We do what we can, as we are able, using our skills for parsing catastrophe, and calling on the resources we recognize in the midst of all the chaos. Continue reading “Doing Dishes, While Living Life”
There is no crankier mammal on the face of this planet that a grumbly black cat with a bone to pick about her name, who was probably rescued against her will.
I’ve probably set myself up to explain a lot, but even that is really just the beginning of it, because we also forced a new kitten on “the poor thing” just as she was done settling in, so there’s that, too.
I’ll begin with the name: Her name is Neville. Yes, Neville. Three (or so) forces conspired to set a boy’s name on this once-tiny and terrified/furious kitten, and to leave it there.