5 Things People With Tidy Homes (read: not me) Don’t Do

So, for months now — MONTHS — Facebook keeps showing me the same sponsored post in my news feed. It’s by Myquillin Smith of The Nesting Place, a stunning home and garden blogger, and it’s titled 5 Things People With Tidy Homes Don’t Do. 

Now, I want to be CRYSTAL CLEAR that I have no problem with my fellow humans who keep tidy homes. I LOVE PEOPLE WHO KEEP TIDY HOMES for many reasons, the main one of which is I get to live vicariously through them. Thank goodness, because God knows I don’t keep a tidy home myself. I mean, it’s gotten better as my kids have grown older — less “filth and squalor” these days and more just “mayhem, muck, and madness,” you know? — but tidy is definitely not a word applicable to our situation. ...  read more

5 Things I Learned on the Portland Naked Bike Ride (Warning: Butts Ahead)

Maybe it’s the Celt in me, or the Gael — a Druidic ancestor beckoning me back to the spirit of my homeland — a skyclad priestess spinning with her arms aloft to welcome the Wild at dusk or dawn — or maybe it’s just that there’s freedom in being bereft of barriers, but, for whatever reason, I’ve wanted to join the Portland Naked Bike Ride for years. ...  read more

The Kittens Have Landed. (Sorry, Baby Skunks.)

THE KITTENS HAVE LANDED.

I REPEAT: THE FOSTER KITTENS HAVE LANDED.

Despite a WHOLE ENTIRE DINNER last week during which my beloved partner, my mother, my father, my brother, my sister-in-law, and my eldest daughter all tried to convince me foster kittens are the Worst Idea in the Known Universe, the kittens are here. Because NEVERTHELESS, I PERSISTED, friends. ...  read more

We’re Getting Baby Skunks Because We’re Good Americans.

Now hear this: if I can’t physically rescue baby humans from cages, I am going to rescue All the Baby Animals. 

All of them. 

Every single one.

I mean, YES, I am ALSO taking action on behalf of the small humans. But no one is letting me march into those detention centers with my wire cutters while holding a separated mommy’s hand so we can reunite her with her kid and stop this insanity, so I’m finding I need to take other actions, too. Tangible ones. To soothe this world and myself. To reduce the amount of harm. And it doesn’t hurt my mental health if those actions require me to snuggle tiny, furry creatures.  ...  read more

We’re Getting a Kitten! Don’t Tell Greg.

We’re getting a kitten! 

Don’t tell Greg

Also, don’t tell Abby.

Also-also, don’t tell my parents. 

None of those people will approve, and the first two will be downright hostile about it — Greg because he feels we already have enough living creatures around here costing us money (FALSE, Greg), and Abby because her soul is damaged and she doesn’t like animals.  ...  read more

Feeling Sick Is Part of It: A Response to Kids in Cages

I’m eating white cheddar Cheetos — the fancy kind with no preservatives, flavors or colors. The elitist cheese puffs were only $0.29 more than the regular, neon orange, radioactive kind, so I decided not to get cancer, just this once. I’m drinking diet ginger ale, too, because cheese dust and ginger pair well, and, also, everyone knows the word “diet” counteracts all calories consumed in that sitting.  ...  read more

I Saw an Old Woman

I saw an old woman last night wearing a loose shift in the lobby of my daughter’s condo building. She was tiny in every direction; her arms the size of my wrists, her head as tall as my chin. She must’ve been pushing 80, both in years and in pounds. Her skin was ivory white under the florescent lights, translucent almost, like it was the color of her bones leaching through and not so much the color of skin at all. Like she was turning inside out. Transforming in her skin cocoon in front of my eyes. ...  read more