I Raised My Glass to the Moon

I raised my glass to the moon tonight, and I yelled, “CHEERS, Mama Moon,” because I felt like she gets it, trying to reflect light in the darkness and succeeding and failing in larger and smaller measures depending on the night and her cycle and how much access she has to the sun.

“CHEERS, Mama Moon,” I yelled outside, in my big, baggy, pilled sweatshirt that’s soft and worn, and my black leggings decorated with dog hair, and my booty slippers that aren’t meant for walking on the road but are used that way anyway even though the rain seeps in the sides and soaks the socks I stole from the kids’ laundry basket because I couldn’t find any clean socks of my own. ...  read more

How to Houseplant

My mom grew roses when I was kid. Gorgeous, HUGE roses with conceited, ruffled petals in every 80s pastel color imaginable, especially all the varieties of peach. She trimmed them, and dead headed the rose hips, and put tar on the end of every cut stalk to make sure the aphids didn’t get to the vulnerable plant, and my brother and I would play in the crab grass while she worked the rose beds, and threaten each other with bodily harm, but we stayed away from the roses because we knew what was good for us. ...  read more

Your Help Needed. Important Question Ahead.

Your help needed. Important question ahead. 

Is there something wrong with me? Or with the rest of the world?
Please pick one.

It’s just that I keep seeing this meme on The Book of Faces lately…

CrochetShorts

…which says “just because you CAN crochet something doesn’t mean you should.”

Except I’m pretty sure that if you CAN crochet something, you DEFINITELY should. ...  read more

This Is Not A Real Post

Guys. Guys. Guys. Guys. Guys.

I am so tired.

The End

P.S. Sorry for calling you all “guys.” I mean guys and ladies. But I’m using the patriarchal “guys” as a stand-in for both genders. It’s poor form, I know. I’m just too tired to change it, man.

On the Pub and the Church and Doing a New Thing

I’m sitting at a pub in my little Oregonian home town tonight because a) it’s Whiskey Wednesday, b) my friend, Bubba, is working and can point neophyte me in the right whiskey direction (Basil Hayden Bourbon, y’all), and c) I’m trying to talk two of my favorite girlfriends — a pastor and a spiritual director — into running a spiritual formation retreat with me. It’s a good night, in other words, full of things that feel holy like water, whiskey and women who teach me how to love bigger and brighter and better and who think I’m awesome even when I fail completely at those things. ...  read more