But my fingers are in my ears and la, la, la, la, la — I’m an eleven-year-old who sews her own clothes. When people ask me why, “I have more time than money.” My mother is still young. She’s stuck on a farm in a loveless marriage; the nearest shops are an hour’s walk away and she does not drive. I make her clothes…

A final tale from the dog bed, by Jessie A. — It’s been a minute since you last heard from me. My human Bea wasn’t writing stories and neither was I. Even when I still could. I had three or four stories sitting around in Drafts but just didn’t feel like finishing them. …

The foods we love don’t just anchor us. They find us again and again. — As far as my memory can stretch before rebounding and bouncing around like a cat on a trampoline, I’ve had a strange relationship with food. Or maybe not so strange. You be the judge. Although you wouldn’t know it by looking at me, I was, and still am, a finicky…

Start with the trail of breadcrumbs you’re already leaving — Originally published by grainofinfinity on December 21, 2019. I wake up before 5 AM with a question burning its way out of my dreams. I’d like to think what startled me out of sweet dreams is a whisper from an ancestor’s grave. More likely, it’s Zena the terrier standing up…

From old soul to perennial millennial, I’ve never been my age — I’ve been 42 all my life. I was middle-aged like my teachers when I was a kid. When my friends were five, eight, eleven, or sixteen, they’d say something [stupid] and I’d blurt out some version of “Oh, grow up!” Not out loud, of course. At 42, I knew better. …

It’s been a minute — Originally published by grainofinfinity on Dec 13, 2019. I haven’t been publishing lately. I have my reasons: work, home, school, volunteer commitments, yes, but also, I just didn’t wanna. Maybe it’s because, well, one day I woke up and I’m 61. I’ve been tired. Tired of searching for meaning. Of…

People are as people do — This was originally published on grainofinfinity.com and Medium on April 14, 2018, under the pen name grainofinfinity. Back in the days when people jumped on a plane for work things, I found myself on an early morning nonstop aimed into the bullseye of the right coast. …

Unless a guardian angel sacks the Grim Reaper — Our last weekend away could have ended in tragedy. Thank dog it didn’t. That’s not a typo. With three scary near-misses behind us — that I know of — I’m convinced a black-and-white guardian angel stands between us and the Grim Reaper — at least when he’s come for one…

I’m you, 43 years later. Yeah, I look old. Get used to it. — Oh, if we only could re-live the turning points and turn the other way. Where might we be today? Happier? Richer? Child-free? Doting grandparents to seven grandkids? Where might we be now? I have no complaints and no regrets. I love my life. I’m happily married and financially comfortable. Three…