Yesterday it was Friday and sunshine on palm trees. Today it’s Saturday and fat plops of snow on dog poop in the backyard.
Away for five days on a writer’s retreat in Palm Springs hosted by author Christie Tate, I’ve returned to domestic mundanity in South Central Kansas.
It’s late January, and today’s typical Kansas weather is an interesting punctuation on the out-of-the ordinary week I’ve had.
Monday: I hate flying but the reward outweighs the risk and I jet from ICT to PSP. I bring my emotional support dog Scraps, the little salt and pepper, curly-haired terrier I adopted from the animal shelter shortly after choosing sobriety a year and a half ago. A dear friend paid his way on this trip. He’s nine pounds. He whimpers in his soft-sided carrier until we’re airborne. …
Artwork provided by the incomparable Amber Vanhatala Stene, friend, and mentor. I posed for this series in college and was given an original work as a wedding gift–a treasure I cherish.
Burbling, bubbling, bursting at the seams…or so it seems. My desire to write and create and paint a story with my fingertip-brushes dancing on the keys: it’s unquenchable. I am one of the lucky ones, paid for my passion as a copywriter and communication strategist. But here–here you will find my extra, my delight, my just-because, my rants, my opinions, and snapshots of this season in life. I’m no parenting expert–but I’m fiercly committed to raising my voice for the health and wellbeing of children, especially those who are autistic. I’m no political expert–but I’m fiercly committed to raising my voice for the oppressed, the stressed, and the marginalized. I’m no great scholar of faith–but I’m fiercly committed to raising my voice in praise of the God who loves.
I have something to say. And when life gives you a story, tell it.