I climbed into the pen while Patrick held the blue plastic tarp down over the top to discourage any panicked flight risks.

…the washing machine plays that little digital tune at the end of the speed cycle and it startles me when I’m alone in the house.

Early in my twenties, someone once described me as having an “active inner life”.

I swayed from the impact for a second or two and stepped back, stumbling over a thick knot of dried mud and straw.

I made my heart as humble as I could before stepping off the path and over the remains of the rusty razor wire fence into their Their World…

I didn’t want to see someone whose body had been insulted by bullets and grenades.

So there I am on a Tuesday, and a Wednesday, trying to deconstruct the process for making a catheter bag cover.

Goodbyes are high on my list of what I wish I could sidestep, but I’ve gathered them just the same.

Pre-pandemic, I’m sure communication was challenging at times, but these past several months, it’s become a real workout.

In a smooth but quick flash, they suddenly locked talons and spiraled downward in some unseen column of love and air.

Each drop of dew hangs perfect and patient, knowing their fate in the hours to come, giving themselves over to it anyway.

We made it up as we went along—the best kind of days, right?

this entire year has been an unsettling amalgamation of gut-wrench and coin-toss

A retractable clothesline opened us up to a new possibility, one we would not have sought out on our own.

On the continuum of what we do simply because we have the ability, I realize that not all activities are noble or decent or in any stretch of reasoning redemptive.

I find myself wondering lately about the collective resilience of the human species. How much can we bear?

When we bought the farm, we barely imagined a humble flock of chickens

Twenty years on forty-one acres, and there are still places we’ve never left our mark.

It’s good and breezy today, a most welcome addition to the unblocked sun as it pulls the red line of the thermometer upwards toward the low 90’s. Perfect kite conditions.

I hope I’m a morning person until my final breath and heartbeat.