Author Archives: dig

sick day

She threw up before she could even try the squash soup she asked for. The powerlessness and humility of being on knees, a fistful of her hair in my hand while she leans on the toilet, her body rejecting the little bit she ate that day. She sleeps pretty well but I don't. I've been wide awake for several hours every night this week. Tonight's cyclical thought: did I close the chicken run all the way? Could a raccoon slip in there? At 1am, I reluctantly get up. I slide my feet into my red rubber clogs and trod to the coop under the huge, bright moon. It seems the moon has been full for days. It wasn't all the way closed. I climbed into bed with her and she's breathing fast. She's hot. I refill the essential oil diffuser, move her body onto cool sheets, kiss her freckled eyelid. google search: average breaths per minute 8 year old Continue reading →
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hump day nuggets: your heart beating in your whole entire body

We're home after many weeks away. My garden plot and laundry piles competing for attention. The garden wins. The baskets make excellent forts anyway. Continue reading →
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Into the Great Wide Open

I've been saying and I'll keep saying it. This summer is nuts. Company and travels have us rushing about more than we're used to. All good things, all good things. But holy! Weddings, reunions, camping and adventuring have the Clines moving and shaking over these warm, river-dipped, suntanned months. Our most recent adventure was a big one. Andy and I packed mules into the Bob Marshall Wilderness. Andy's boss and our friend, Chris Eyer, has nine mules and three horses and dude is passionate about his craft: swaddling gear and packing with giant, beloved, hooved animals deep into the wild. Continue reading →
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The Tree of Generations

This time feels different. The warm, squishy, dependent child that swam from my body — her legs run now. She involuntarily throws looks – simultaneously irritated and apologetic – my way when I mention anything at all that isn’t what she had in mind. And, in her literal very next breath, says mommy I want to snuggle with you. She presses her forehead to the soft space under my collarbone and falls heavy into my body, her knees arched up under my bicep, her arms draped around my neck.  Read more on The Tree of Generations…
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with our own two hands

Well shit, things are heavy in the world right now. I woke up in the middle of the night last night imagining things I’d rather not imagine. Things I’ve read about this summer. You know the stories. The senselessness and heartache of humans murdering other humans. Read more on with our own two hands…
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