the lady in Target with the faraway stare.

she’s everywhere, she's me

“Susan Carrying Willie” photographed by Graham Nash in 1980, source

where are they now?

do they call?

when did they stop holding your hand?

is my joy naive?

does seeing her laugh make you sad?

sad’s not really the right word, is it?

do you want to warn me or congratulate me?

did it break your heart?

it gets much harder, doesn’t it?

you see them when you see her, don’t you?

you see you when you see me.

---

recently:

1. shin-deep snow! magnificent kitchen window icicles! daughter sleds for first time ever, loves it!

2. constantly needing a cup of tea in my hand

3. Addie head banging to Say It Ain’t So on our way to the new library class that just dropped (who am I)

4. we watched Gran Turismo and I was stress-clenching my butt the whole time, it was really good

5. cooking: lentil soup w/ sausage, chard and garlic from Smitten Kitchen, plus so many things from First Forty Days book. Also having stuff around to make quesadillas feels like a life hack

6. this beautiful piece

So, What Are We Supposed To Do With All These Teeth?

6. cute little cover/collab

7. and Dolly gives us a cover album?!?!

8. I don't have IG right now but I do have a sister who texts me things like this

author

Zachariah Porter on Instagram: “Why are they always trying to start an alliance? 🛒😭 #customerservice #customerserviceproblems #customersbelike #relatable #comedyreels”

January 22, 2024

9. You Begin
   by Margaret Atwood

   You begin this way:
   this is your hand,
   this is your eye,
   that is a fish, blue and flat
   on the paper, almost
   the shape of an eye.
   This is your mouth, this is an O
   or a moon, whichever
   you like. This is yellow.

   Outside the window
   is the rain, green
   because it is summer, and beyond that
   the trees and then the world,
   which is round and has only
   the colors of these nine crayons.

   This is the world, which is fuller
   and more difficult to learn than I have said.
   You are right to smudge it that way
   with the red and then
   the orange: the world burns.

   Once you have learned these words
   you will learn that there are more
   words than you can ever learn.
   The word hand floats above your hand
   like a small cloud over a lake.
   The word hand anchors
   your hand to this table,
   your hand is a warm stone
   I hold between two words.

   This is your hand, these are my hands, this is the world,
   which is round but not flat and has more colors
   than we can see.

   It begins, it has an end,
   this is what you will
   come back to, this is your hand.