…of many different peoples and worlds.
The crickets are making their August sounds, and the goldenrod chokes the ditches, and the people that have lived here much longer than I have are making their annual and autumnal protests against the death of summer. I never enjoyed the month of August until I moved to Bancroft where it became the beginning of... Continue Reading →
A Heroine by Missy Burkholder “A Heroine” will appear in the Leaf, the Curator’s annul print journal. Enjoy your peek between Read More ...A Heroine — Nettlesome
Dad, for most of his life, has been a pillar and a magnet for friendless people. Gentle and untiringly invested in his numerous relationships, many of which are even more unusual than his animals, he is the perpetual recipient of the beloved animals of his friends. When they can no longer care for or house their pets, they are delivered with tearful ceremony into the hands of a man who cannot bring himself to say no. Dad is clay in the hands of such trust.
I stayed in a fuzzy, gray tunnel all morning sorting baby clothes, arranging, smoothing, folding, touching, staring, refolding, piling here, then moving the pile there. It was partially the weather, partially this burgeoning pregnancy, and partially not eating an adequate breakfast.
Now I think, “If we’d be staying longer, we’d be so much better at this.”
A week ago at this hour, we descended into the bewildering masses of Dhaka city, the capital of Bangladesh, and spent a weary day whiling away the time and supporting our exhausted toddler till we could go to bed… about the time our Canadian bodies wanted to wake up. A week later, matters have improved.... Continue Reading →
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