Monthly Archives: July 2011

hump day nuggets: Family

hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last weekWe’ve been on the road. In fact, we are, right this minute, driving the stretch of I-90 whose path I know like my kids’ freckle patterns. It’s been a long haul, from Missoula to Helena to Proctor to Billings, all the while surrounded by hoards of loved ones from all branches of the family tree and all corners of the country. We gathered to love … Continue reading hump day nuggets: Family →
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good morning

I am sitting in a small cabin and I hear birds, the occasional fill of a bucket from the well, good morning and are you going fishing today? as feet stroll lazily down the old gravel path. People say good morning until 2pm. It’s my kind of vacation: nothing to do except be with those you love; to just feel, exist. No gadgets, no frill, this place is exactly how I remember it from my childhood. We used to meet … Continue reading good morning →
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hump day nuggets: uunh

hump day nuggets: little bits of the season in photos and words about the last week I like rap and hip hop music a lot. It’s what I play when I am in The Zone to clean, write or make stuff. I like the bass line, I like the predictable rhythm that makes me sharply move my hips. And I like how nearly every singer inserts a groaning, passionate¬†uunh when they are feeling it. It’s like they encouraging themselves. Uunh … Continue reading hump day nuggets: uunh →
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cruise control

This week Margot, Ruby and I will stand in a room of white walls and bright lights. Lots of people will be there studying over 30 meticulously, lovingly crafted paintings* made by the hands of my husband. It feels a bit like a birth. So much thought and energy and planning, working toward this day when it OPENS. And then. Then, whatever comes next. Crazy Intersection, oil on board Andy and I both have art degrees. We graduated and wondered … Continue reading cruise control →
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a mama’s skirt

billows and folds twirls and puckers comfort swallows small hands like kneading dough the hem never far the lap a vacant lot of tall grass begs for wild play or blissed-out recline an endless basket made with a grab holding treasures eggs doll shoesberries clothes pin toes grip the waistband until they don’t because they swim away in skirts of their own :: :: :: all photos taken with a Canon Digital SLR from
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