Inwardly I “hmm”-ed when hearing stories about folks keeping the ashes of their pets in their home. Tucked under the bed. Stashed in a closet. Whatever. Continue reading
Silence has a sound: the thump-thump of my heartbeat as I strain to hear the jingle of tags on a collar or clicks of dog nails clattering along the hardwood floor. But, the noises don’t come.
I’m left alone with the sound of my heartbeat, and the Walnut won’t be causing mischief anymore. Continue reading
Twitter reminds me repeatedly through various posts, “writers write.” I want to be a writer.
Today, however, I don’t want to do the grueling work. Instead, I’d like to gloss over the mess gurgling in me. Lately, I’ll eagerly write other bits, Tasty Thursday posts, or things that feel somehow outside of me. I dutifully post to honor commitments I made to my accountability partner and my husband. Continue reading
Since Nye’s Polonaise Room shutters this Sunday, April 3, this week’s Tasty Thursday post is dedicated to the Minneapolis icon. If you’ve never had a chance to get to Nye’s, Continue reading
I married into a family with regimented holiday traditions, which is pretty much the opposite of my side of the family. J and his mom have certain activities and specific foods that correlate with various holidays, and there are specific times those activities happen. J must have hot cross buns on Palm Sunday every year, and julekage the week before Christmas. Julekage is basically like a giant hot cross bun with a better frosting to bread ratio. I mean, if you have to eat bread with weird neon candied fruit, it’s better to drown it in icing. I’m not really a fan of either bread concoction, or fruitcake, for that matter.
I’ll hop back from that rabbit trail, and back to Easter food traditions.
Chatting with J about this infertility blog series, I started talking about how it hurts to feel like an outsider when others start swapping pregnancy stories. I feel like I’m watching a scene from behind a glass: eagerly gazing out, nose smushed up on the window, and longing to get outside. But, the door is locked to me.